The Ritual
by DarkDaisies
Summary: They believed he had been spared. They believed he would never know the truth behind his heritage. They were wrong...and now the witch he's spent a lifetime detesting is his destiny. -Rated M: sexual situations, language -Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like to play with other people's toys.
1. Of Discoveries & Chains

Of Discoveries &amp; Chains

* * *

He remembered the moment he knew.

It had been the eve of his twentieth birthday. The war had been over for three years. It was a quiet time in the wizarding world and his life was peaceful for the first time since he was a child. It was a peaceful life, the likes of which he'd never known and he savored it.

It wasn't necessary to shrink in fear, nor skirt silently around corners of his own home. The nightmares continued in their visitation, but even they were sporadic at best. He was almost a respectable member of society. Of course there were still those determined to cling to the last vestiges of hatred which stemmed from the war, but he did his best to look past their anger. He continuously reminded himself, he once was the same.

He had awoken trapped in the twisted satin sheets of his childhood, his skin slick with beads of sweat. His hair had been plastered to his forehead and he had difficulty drawing a full breath. He couldn't remember the dream but he knew something had changed. He felt positively primal. Something was missing. Something important, no, that wasn't quite right. Someone. Someone was missing and he needed them. Desperately. The very idea of allowing this someone to slip through his fingers was excruciatingly painful. He wanted them. He needed them. He lived…for them.

He remembered leaping from his four poster bed, his chest still heaving, his heart erratically pounding beneath his breast. He remembered stalking toward the window and ripping the heavy brocade draperies from the window in a single slash. He stared through the murky glass as the moon cast shadows and attempted to clear his head.

The moonlight had shone brightly onto his skin causing him to inspect every inch for flaws which no longer existed. Instinctively his long fingers had stroked his chest, searching for the thin threads of scars which remained from an unlucky confrontation with The Boy Who Was Completely Overrated. He had gasped in confusion, his eyes perusing his naked torso yet coming up empty.

He shook his head slowly, and retreated from the silvery moonlight, completely convinced it was playing tricks with his mind. These sorts of things didn't truly happen, did they? He had eagerly searched the darkness of his bedchamber for the silk pyjamas he had been wearing, his hands shaking, his thoughts muddled. He crinkled them in his hands before shoving his feet into them, tying them tightly on his hips. He had glanced at his wand lying on the bedside table and discarded the thought of retrieving it. He had also snarled, stomping across his bedchamber in a most unrefined manner, tossing the heavy oak door into the wall, his lip curling even as the oak splintered.

He remembered stalking angrily through the darkened corridors of the Manor, his fists clenched. The sconces lining the forest green walls leaping to life as he passed. He would have stopped to contemplate such a rarity but he was a man on a mission.

His sweat slicked body clenched around his soul, burning him from the interior with a want he didn't, couldn't understand. His muscles tightened angrily, dancing on the precipice of refusing his commands. He forced himself forward, ignoring the sizzle in the air, the barely discernible sounds of heirlooms crashing into the walls, shattering into pieces on the floor.

He had felt as if his blood were boiling him from the interior, feeling no relief, even as the cool marble of the foyer attempted to soothe the bare soles of his feet. A cacophony of bright flashing pictures flipped madly through his mind's eye, intent upon showing him pieces of the puzzle he was unable to solve. He didn't know when he had sunk to his knees, his damp hair held fast in angry fists, yanking it from his skull. Unable to continue, his head fell backward as the soul wrenching scream escaped pink lips, echoing into the night.

"I thought he had been spared." He remembered hearing the warbling concerned voice of his mother, whispering beside him. He had felt the soothing cool of a cloth pressed to his forehead, sighing as it eased the insistent fire determined to burn through him.

It was the conversation, this particular conversation that continued to plague him, haunted him really. It had altered everything he'd ever believed, everything he'd ever known. He was trapped in an endless loop of flirtation, never to take that which was his and it was slowly killing him.

"Draco? Lucius, I believe he's coming around." Narcissa Malfoy hovered over her only son, desperately clutching his clammy palm in her own, disregarding the state of her dressing gown.

He growled, ripping his hand from his mother's, confused to feel the strange sounds rumbling in his chest. His grey eyes immediately opened, squinting in the bright light of day. The fire continued to burn and he resisted the urge to rip his skin from his bones to find the slightest relief.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" He didn't recognise the raspy quality of his voice. The slight shuffling movement of his father caught his attention, his eyes narrowing into slits, his breath escaping his lips in forceful puffs.

"Draco, you must calm yourself. Your father and I wish you no harm. We aim only to aid you during this transition." Narcissa remained on her knees before her only son, silently willing her husband to remain still until their son was in complete control of his facilities.

He growled harshly, his grey eyes darkening to black as pitch. He didn't understand the want to tear his father limb from limb. He didn't understand why the desire to escape the Manor was becoming impossibly difficult to resist. He gripped the sofa, feeling the fabric tear beneath his...were those bloody claws?

"Tell me." He spat venomously, daring his mother to deny him. As his vision clouded and the haze encompassed him, he could easily envision ripping his mother's throat out with a single swipe.

"I'll have to bind you, for our safety as well as yours." Narcissa swallowed hard, her long blonde hair falling in unruly waves down her back.

Lucius hugged the wall of the sitting room, unwilling to draw his son's gaze. It wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before; however, watching his wife go through the transformation was decidedly different than facing the rage of his son. He was afraid to breathe, knowing anything could set him off.

"Do it." Lucius cringed. His son's voice sounded as if he had ground glass in his throat. His skin was flushed pink and he wondered if it was the burn causing such a reaction.

"Son..."

"NO! Do not speak to me. Do not let him speak to me. It hurts. I can't bear it. He's hurt her. I can feel it. Merlin he despises her." Draco curled unto himself, unable to bear the brunt of it all.

His knees shook as he felt the pure hate flow through him. It wasn't his, but it was as if tiny daggers were stabbing his soul. He didn't want to feel the emotions coursing through his father's cold veins. He didn't wish to be anything like his father, not anymore and allowing the emotionally bereft mind-set linger for even a moment, filled him with revulsion.

"Who Draco? Do you know who?" Narcissa resisted the urge to run the cool cloth over his face. Her hands hovered inches from his forearm, feeling the heat come off him in waves.

"No. I don't...I can't...I couldn't see. I tried, but I couldn't." The pain of such an admission caused angry tears to escape his closed eyes.

He had to protect her, he knew it. She wasn't safe. She'd never be safe without him but how could he protect her when he didn't know who she is? The irony of such a thing was not lost on him and he keened, his limbs rigid.

"Could you sense her?" Draco felt the magical ropes encircle his limbs and he refused to thrash against them.

"Mother, stop it. I can't breathe. Everything hurts, why does it hurt? What's happening?" Narcissa rebelled against her consciousness and brushed the slick hair from her son's forehead.

He shuddered, leaning into the touch. He felt her fingertips lightly brushing his cheek and the burn lessened, recognising the maternal comfort for what it was.

"Lucius, send for Apolline." Draco didn't know an Apolline, yet it didn't matter, he could almost breathe. His chest was still constricted, yet it was no longer as if he were attempting to suck in oxygen while a piece of stone laid upon his breast.

"It is done." Lucius whispered, cringing. He eased along the wall, slipping from the room before his life became forfeit.

"Draco, Apolline will come quickly. She's been waiting for this moment since your adolescence. She's much more knowledgeable than I when it comes to..."

"What Mother, tell me." Draco sighed, focusing his energies on relaxing the stiffness.

"It will be difficult."

"My life has been difficult." Narcissa risked her wellbeing and settled beside her son. She drew her pale green dressing gown closed, fiddling with the ties.

"When you were a child, you were quite a curious thing, constantly barraging me with questions. I tried to answer them to the best of my ability, but you were quite obsessed with one particular subject." Draco nodded, vaguely remembering the flare of anger from his father and his mother's tight lipped responses.

"Your sisters."

"Exactly. It's quite noticeable I look nothing like them. There's a reason for that which I had hoped I would never be forced to explain to you. However, certain situations are obviously out of our control and here we are."

"Mother, I'm dying, can you hurry it along a bit?" He groaned, disgruntled with the inability to draw his knees into his chest.

"Always such a flair for dramatics. You must get that from your father." Narcissa snorted, smoothing her hair and pulling it over her shoulder. She closed her sky blue eyes and enhanced her calm. "Your grandmother discovered me near the forest. I truly know nothing about it. She did not disclose such things to me until my own transformation which was quite different from yours. I went to sleep on the eve of my seventeenth birthday and awoke with a feral need to find him. I nearly tore a few first years into pieces in my quest until I stumbled into the boys' dormitories. He had just stepped out of his room and I flew into his arms and well, I sunk my fangs into him. I didn't give him a chance to catch his breath or Merlin forbid reject me. After that moment, he was mine. I suppose it could have been similar for Fleur in regards to that Weasley but I haven't the slightest. Apolline will tell you more."

"What the fuck are you going on about? Grandmum bloody found you? And what? She simply brought you home and said hello granddad we've got ourselves a girl child, isn't she pretty, let's keep her? Fucking FANGS? You bit him? Why would you do that? Are you a vampire? You're hurting my head and that's a pretty fantastic bloody feat considering how much PAIN I'M IN!" Draco struggled against his magical bonds, his head pounding behind his eyes. He felt an inexplicable rage building, oozing its way past his defences, slowly obliterating the last remnants of his humanity as the feral howl tore through his throat.

"Mon dieu!" Apolline Delacour swept into the sitting room in a flourish of dark purple robes, blonde hair flying with an intensity Draco had never witnessed beyond the brooding of his father. She perched on the edge of the marble coffee table; her eyes squinted in silent contemplation.

She waved a pale wrinkled hand absently, as if she were toying with the ripples in a pond, before forming a quick, tight fist. She twisted her fist clockwise slowly, until the tension ebbed from Draco's twisted form. She smiled quickly, so quickly in fact if he had not witnessed it himself, it would have been difficult to convince him such a thing had happened. Apolline Delacour was a perfect mask of controlled magic.

"Unbind him. I cannot work under such conditions." Her voice was a low, soothing timbre causing Draco's body to respond, slowly the tightness in his limbs receded and he felt moments of complete clarity.

"Oui Madame." Narcissa flicked her wand, ending the enchantment.

Draco had never heard his mother acquiesce to another witch so quickly. As the Matriarch of the Malfoy legacy, she was a proud woman, regal and elegant. She did not bow to the whims of anyone, not even her husband.

"He is strong. This is good. It will make his training much easier. You should have called for me sooner. I could have begun before the transformation." Apolline frowned lightly upon taking in Lady Malfoy's attire yet refrained from comment.

"When he came of age and nothing happened, we thought perhaps...he would remain unaffected." Narcissa remained contrite though she had half a mind to hex the condescending witch regardless of her expertise.

"I warned you. How much have you told him?"

"I'm right bloody here." Draco snarled, feeling the fire rear its excruciating head.

"I didn't feel there was a need for him to…"

"You were wrong, obviously." Draco's chin dropped, his lips falling open at the blatant audacity of the older witch. He was quite surprised and almost impressed his mother had not hexed the poor woman into oblivion.

"Madame Delacour, surely you cannot fault us for protecting our son?"

"Protect him? My dear, you've coddled him, spoiled him and left him completely uneducated in terms of his legacy. He doesn't know what he is, or what you are or even what his children will be. He's been besieged by visions which he can't possibly properly understand and that is your fault Narcissa. You have failed him."

"Yes, yes we're Malfoys and we're horrid people. Would you mind telling me what the fuck you're talking about?" Draco's hiss drew Apolline's attention and another ghost of a smile passed her pink lips.

Apolline ignored him then as her blue eyes darkening to pools of black. Her fingers elongated forming talons, even as her canines lengthened, pricking her bottom lip. She stood suddenly, tearing the cloak from her person, a strange cawing escaping what used to be her lips. Her pale face morphed into something Draco remembered well. Her plump lips formed a sharp, pointed beak, the cawing growing to a cacophony of screeches. Apolline curled unto herself and with one last shriek, a pair of pale grey scaled wings expanded, jutting from her shoulder blades, renting the fabric of her purple robes.

Draco Malfoy bit his cheek until it bled, unable to tear his eyes from the creature. He wanted to be completely revolted, but he couldn't. He remembered being at the Quidditch World Cup years upon years ago and watching the intriguing creatures weave their web before they grew angry. He had felt something then but dismissed it readily. It was different now and he still didn't wish to acknowledge it.

He blinked quickly and in a swirl of golden magic, Apolline Delacour was once more an elderly woman perched on the corner of the coffee table.

"I'm a fucking harpy?!" Even Apolline in all her regal aristocracy managed a small laugh at his outburst.

"My dear, you are so much more than that."

"I'm a wizard. I'm not a bloody bird." Draco's head compressed, in a vise grip if you will as he attempted to make a bit of sense of what he had seen.

"Draco, my dear boy, you are both. It's such a shame really, your parents had ample opportunity to begin your education and yet they refrained. Narcissa, if you don't mind?" Apolline might have smiled, but Draco sensed if she was refused the terrifying bird would make a hasty reappearance.

"Of course Madame. I'll see to afternoon tea." Narcissa placed a small kiss on her son's brow before hurrying from the now stuffy sitting room.

"Your mother was abandoned by her parents on the edge of the forest. They were magical creatures; therefore do not fret over your pureblood status. We do not know the circumstances of the abandonment nor are we apt to investigate such things. It is in the past and in the past is where it shall remain. Needless to say she was taken in by the Blacks and raised accordingly. They hadn't the slightest inkling of what she truly is. There was no way to know, not really, not then. As she grew and aged accordingly, it became obvious to those of us who know better. My family was sent for obviously. It's been in our blood for centuries. We didn't get to her in time and she claimed Lucius before she was aware of what was transpiring.

"Now, first I wish to dispel of the myths. Yes, you have a mate. One person to complete you body and soul for all of eternity. If you do not discover your mate, you shall not die. You will wish you had died, but you shall continue on with a half life. You will never marry or possess the ability to father an heir and eventually you will fade away as if you never existed. Most of our kind choose to end their existence than to suffer through a half life. If are you unable to identify your mate, that is where I come in. I would suppose you've already suffered through the dream. Since you are currently here instead of rushing about to claim her, I'm also assuming her identity was hidden from you." Draco nodded cautiously, still trying to piece together this new information, while tamping down the urge to tear her limb from limb.

"You will need to learn control. You only have one chance. If you find your mate and she refuses you, you will be reduced to excruciating pain for the remainder of your days. Contrary to popular opinion, you do not possess magical pheromones which turn every female into a simpering slag. However, your mate will have an undeniable attraction to you and perhaps she's even denied its very existence to herself. There have been instances of our kind never being able to identify their mate and they were reduced to most pitiful creatures. Others were only able to identify their mate by scent. Their mate's features remained hidden for good reason."

"What...what reason?" Apolline sighed heavily, crossed her long legs and purred. He wasn't aware people had the capable of purring, but then he realised she wasn't exactly a person, was she?

"Lucius was a bit of a bully. Were you aware? I'm assuming you were, considering he is your father. He tormented your mother terribly. Ridiculous, considering her heritage. He hexed her quite badly somewhere between their third and fifth year. He claims it was accidental, but with your father one can never be too sure. She snuck into his common room and cut off his hair. He deserved it, though he'll deny it. Lucius was always quite proud of his hair and to have the person he hated most deny him his most coveted possession...well, it was war between them. When your mother had her dream, she was incapable of discerning her mate. It's a protection of sorts. She sensed him only because his scent clung to her robes after a particularly rough physical altercation. She rushed from her dormitory and immediately marked him, taking away his decision to choose. You see, we might have a mate, the sort which lasts for a lifetime, but that doesn't mean our mates will choose us. It is quite heart breaking when that happens."

"The dreams do not show our mate if there's a chance of rejection. That's what you're saying isn't it?" He gasped, his shoulders curling inward, absorbing the extraordinary ricochet of pain slicing through him. The very thought she existed and would refuse him...

"The way you're feeling right now? That's how you would remain until the end of your days."

"It's excruciating. I can't bear it." He huffed, concentrating on drawing regular breaths. He'd do anything to make it stop, anything at all.

"Could you sense her?" Apolline leaned forward, her elbow on her knee while she stroked her chin.

"I don't..I'm not.."

"Concentrate Draco. You must concentrate. Can you sense your mother? Tell me, what does she smell like to you?" Draco's eyes closed once more and inhaled deeply.

The concentrations of scents swirling in the air confused him for a moment, his tongue flicked between his lips and he discovered he could taste the particles in the air. He quickly dismissed the scents and flavours which were decidedly masculine with the hints of pine, sandalwood and chocolate. Interlaced with such things was...there it was...flowers, various species of flowers, but the most prominent being roses.

"Flowers, mostly roses with hints of orange blossom and even some sort of lily. My father on the other hand reeks of pine and chocolate. I much prefer her scent."

"I'm quite impressed Draco. It took your mother weeks to be able to do such a thing. This will make things much easier for you. Now, I wish for you to delve into the remnants of your dream. You will not remember every moment and I do not expect you too. Though, I suppose it would be safe to assume, she passed you at least once and you were able to sense her. Recall that moment and see if you are able to discern her."

Draco reclined upon the floral sofa, his breaths slow and steady, which pleased Apolline immensely. She rose from her uncomfortable position and slowly wandered the sitting room patiently. She expected it would take him some time.

Apolline rolled her shoulders, prepared to work with Draco Malfoy for the long haul. She supposed he would be abjectly against returning with her to France. She couldn't imagine such a thing going over well with her daughter. She had acquired a distaste for the boy since marrying the eldest Weasley.

While it appeared Draco Malfoy had slipped into a restful slumber, Apolline decided she was quite peckish. She remembered Narcissa promising a tea tray and set off to find her.

Under different circumstances it would have amused Apolline greatly to see Lucius Malfoy nervously pacing while twirling his ridiculously long blonde hair. His fear was palpable and she understood it more than she wished too. Narcissa, at least had the decency to dress quite proper in a particularly striking dark blue dress while she sipped from a delicate china cup. Apolline was of the opinion it most definitely was not filled with tea and heartily approved.

"I was promised a spot of tea." Lucius Malfoy's feet left the ground in a most unbecoming fashion upon spying the intimidating and powerful creature.

He snapped his fingers and a house elf of no consequence procured a tea cup and saucer along with a spread of delicacies.

"I thought this affliction only affected females." Lucius sipped long and hard from his goblet, avoiding the probing blue eyes on all sides.

"Affliction? Really Lucius, is it possible for you to reign in your obvious distaste for that which you unable to comprehend? As for your question, it's a common misconception obviously. However would our race continue without male counterparts? Of course it's been over a century since there happened to be a half-blood..."

"My son is not a half-blood anything! How dare you?!" Apolline rolled her blue eyes, paying no mind to Lord Malfoy's outburst.

"Still quite caught up in your pureblood supremacy. Pity. Whatever shall you do if your son mates with a Muggle? I'm teasing of course, a Muggle would never be chosen. They haven't a touch of magical blood in them. However, a Muggle-born is most definitely not out of the question." Narcissa pinched the thin bridge of her nose as her husband seethed.

"Preposterous. He wouldn't...I mean...it's not possible is it?" Lucius shakily settled into a high back chair, his pallor an unattractive shade of green.

"Does it matter Lucius? Narcissa claimed you immediately and you've been quite content, have you not? Did it matter to you when you discovered her true heritage?"

"I can't imagine another woman in place of my wife. Her heritage was of no consequence. I would be lying if I said it didn't concern my parents. They were quite concerned and wished me to reconsider. It was impossible of course, I already loved her so. She infuriated me, but she challenged me in ways I'd never imagined." Lucius lost himself in a daydream, a light smirk gracing his lips.

"Exactly my point Lucius. Would you deny your son the same joy? Would you deny him his completion? For I tell you today, he will never feel whole without her." Apolline poured a liberal amount of whisky in her tea, offering Lucius the flask with outstretched fingers.

"He says I've hurt her. He says I detest her. I can't imagine..." His eyes widened in horror, his bony fingers fumbling with the clasp of his robe to scratch at his throat.

"While I find that incredibly interesting, it doesn't quite narrow it down now does it? Unless of course you've kept a tally of every young witch you've injured and detested? That would be immensely helpful." Apolline tapped her short fingernails on the mahogany, smiling sweetly, embracing the scathing glower.

"I've never laid a finger on any witch, pureblood or not. I can't imagine to whom he is referring." Lucius managed a disdainful sniff even a midst the leering grin of Apolline and the resigned sigh of his wife.

"You did inadvertently injure that Weasley girl with that ridiculous diary. I can't remember her name but she is the only female child." Narcissa's pointed glare almost had Lucius feeling apologetic, almost.

"Dear Merlin, a Weasley? Anything would be better than a Weasley." Lucius Malfoy's lip curled, imagining future grandchildren covered in soot with flaming red hair as he shivered in derision.

"Anything Lucius? Don't be too hasty..." Apolline smiled, a knowing sort of smile, the sort which instilled fear of a knowledge he did not possess.

He shivered, unable to quell the raised hairs on the back of his neck, or even the gooseflesh which rose on his arms. The creature knew something he did not, of this he was absolutely certain and it unnerved him more than he was willing to admit. While he contemplated the best ways to release the chains of unequivocal trepidation, his son stumbled into the conservatory, his bare feet sliding on the marble.

"Parchment. Fresh ink. Old books. Grass after a rain. Lavender." Draco collapsed in a heap, his forehead pressed against the cool marble.

His limbs shuddered, the strain of movement proving too much while he continued to burn. A thousand needles bored into the slick skin of his spine, his arms unable to keep him aloft. With the determination of his superior breeding he lifted the heavy emotional mass burrowing into his shoulders and met the blue eyes of Apolline Delacour.

He gasped, not in pain, but in surprise as he felt her sifting through the confines of his mind quite easily. He didn't have the strength required to halt her meandering. He didn't want her to know. He didn't want anyone to know. His father would never accept her. She would never accept him. He'd be forced to live a half life and as the torture of that particular thought ripped through him, Apolline gained entry to that which he begged remain hidden. She paused in the midst of his dream, studying the witch's profile, taking in every aspect of her very persona before retreating. He closed his tired grey eyes and slumped onto the floor in a dreamless slumber.

"You certainly have your work cut out for you my boy."


	2. Of Heaven & Hell

**AN: I'm completely overwhelmed by the response to this fic, never expected it. Thanks bunches. *kisses***

**Try to refrain from correcting my French because uhm, I don't care. I did the best I possibly could and it is what it is. If it offends your delicate sensibilities well, so be it. As for the rest, I did my best to avoid errors but please be aware they do happen and are not the end of the world.**

**Enjoy or don't...ha.**

* * *

Of Heaven &amp; Hell

* * *

He had believed spending copious amounts of time abroad learning to control himself would aid him in being able to resist her. Instead, he felt the need to be in close proximity to her every moment he drew breath.

_"You said I required training as if I were some sort of Muggle caged monkey, instead I feel as if I'm an animal in heat without reprieve! It's been a fucking year, when will it end?" Apolline had ignored his outburst and patted the small space beside her._

_He had growled, controlling the rumble so as to refrain from transformation and while she had nodded approvingly, she demanded his undivided attention._

_"You misunderstood my child. I have kept your secret for you, all this time. I have refused to even allude to your chosen one to your parents though they have begged. This instruction if you will, was not so you may deny her. You must control yourself so you may pursue her." It was easy to allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of comfort, until her words sunk in._

_"Pursue her?! I don't want to bloody pursue her. I want to forget she exists. Her stupid hair with those ridiculous bloody curls and her voice, condescending upon everyone because she bloody well knows everything about everything, now doesn't she?" Draco shuddered, images of her glowering at him dancing in his head. "I despise craving her. I despise having her take over every moment of my life. I wish to be free of her. I don't...I feel as if I no longer have any control of my life and it's my bloody life. I feel her everywhere. When I close my eyes, begging the gods for a reprieve of the madness, I can feel her beside me and I reach for her and when I wake there's an emptiness which can never be filled. I wish to reach into my soul and tear this creature from my person so I may reclaim that which I was." The tears of frustration seeped from his grey eyes and Apolline ruffled the pale locks on the distraught boy's head._

_"My dear, you could no more remove the creature, as you call it, from yourself as you could remove the wizard from yourself."_

_"I am a wizard. It's not as if I could remove that."_

_"Contrary to popular opinion, I feel I must constantly remind you, just as you are a wizard, you are also Veela. There is not a separate enmity within you, controlling your emotions, your actions. It is in your blood. It is part of you. The sooner you accept such matters, the happier you will be. You are fighting against your blood and such battles can never be won."_

_"I'll try." Apolline knew it was quite a concession for him and she accepted it._

_"Her Foundation for Wayward Witches &amp; Wizards is floundering." Apolline tested the waters, gauging his reaction to such news._

_"I'll take care of it. She doesn't know how to bloody fail, can't have her start now. It would bruise her delicate ego."_

_"The Daily Prophet published a lovely picture of her in Diagon Alley." Apolline crossed her long legs, her thin lips pursed, sensing the immediate tension in the air._

_"Alone?" She eyed the tremor in his limbs, recognising the bare vestiges of his control slipping._

_"Of course not; you can't very well expect a woman such as her to remain alone for long. I suppose it was only a matter of time before her relationship with Ron Weasley disintegrated, though I know Molly was ever hopeful they'd make a go of it." She felt the growl more than she heard it and continued as if she hadn't, "She's had a few dates apparently, but they didn't warrant more than a simple mention. This one however, has potential to take. He's a handsome wizard and perhaps he has a chance of matching her intellect." Apolline pressed, curious to see how much control he had truly learned over the past months._

_"Who?" She didn't dare look into his eyes, knowing they would be black as pitch by the timbre of his voice alone. She determined he still had far to go if he intended to properly court the girl._

_"I believe he's a friend of yours. Blaise Zabini?" He felt the beads of sweat course down his face before the overpowering sensation of being flayed alive._

_He hadn't expected such a physical response. He felt his talons prick the sofa and leapt to his feet before he destroyed yet another piece of furniture. It was becoming quite expensive to replace them. He closed his eyes, desperately attempting to retain the smallest modicum of control and failing miserably._

_Apolline had spoken to him at length about the possibility of having wings, but they hadn't sprouted as of yet and he prayed it remained so. He felt his body shuddering, balking against his conscious mind; embracing the tortuousness which accompanied the knowledge his destiny was lending her affections to others._

_"Mine." He heard the screech of his voice, the gravel lodged in his throat, the fire burning brightly and he folded in on himself, refusing to entertain the very idea of her kissing, touching, and loving anyone other than him._

_He barely managed to draw a cleansing breath. He forced the air into his lungs, shaking his head until the fog of fury cleared._

_"Better." He supposed it was the most praise he could expect under the circumstances._

_"Not good enough. Our kind might be protected by the Ministry but she would never forgive me if I tore her suitors' limb from limb." He unclenched his fists, ignoring the pinpricks marring his skin and settled himself onto the sofa once more._

_"Only the weakest of our kind rely on the Ministry of Magic to protect us when claiming our mate. You're better than that. You will be better than that."_

_"Teach me." And finally, Apolline beamed, the sight of her teeth startling her student into silence._

Of course he had approached Blaise carefully. Originally he had wished to wait until the relationship had fizzled as so many had before, yet he didn't, he couldn't. Draco had immediately sent an owl demanding Blaise's presence at the Delacour Estate.

He had been terse, which Blaise had easily understood upon receiving the full explanation. In fact, if Draco recalled correctly, Blaise's exact words had been 'that's fucking brilliant' and while Draco didn't necessarily agree with that conclusion he wasn't about to refute it either.

Blaise had wandered through the Delacour garden with an ease Draco envied. He still wasn't comfortable here and doubted he ever would be. It wasn't home. It wasn't her.

"You want me to stop seeing her then?" Draco studied Blaise carefully.

After knowing the man for most of his life, Draco knew every line, every furrow and every hand gesture meant something. It eased the painful ache to learn while Blaise was fond of her; he didn't hold an attachment to her.

"You'd be willing?" Draco's lip twitched in distaste. It wasn't that he wished to see them together. Hell, when it came down to it, he still took issue with his emotional attachment to her, but he didn't wish to see her broken by anyone's hand. Of course then he spent numerous hours hating himself for the thought.

"Malfoy, you've been my mate since we were in nappies. Sure, you travelled a different road with all that Dark Lord nonsense, but that didn't change much between us. From what you've told me, it's not as if you've a choice in the matter. She's yours. She might not know it yet but she will eventually. She's a nice girl, don't get me wrong, but I'm not looking to settle down. She's not the sort of skirt you dally about with for a good time. I don't even know why she accepted the invitation to lunch the first time. I think her ginger friend pushed her into it or the other one, the mental girl. Yeah, come to think of it, it was the mental girl. The ginger was positively livid. I think I'll have to give her a go." Blaise chuckled, a broad smile stretching his lips at the thought of Ginny Weasley beneath him.

"You're a wanker. You wanted to have a go with her?!" Blaise retreated with his hands held in front of him in silent supplication until his broad back hit the rough bark of a tree.

"Malfoy, I already told you she's not that sort of girl. I didn't touch her! Alright that's not necessarily true. I-I offered her a hand when we were traversing Diagon Alley. I kissed her cheek and she hugged me once. That's it. I swear it. Don't kill me. No one else wants to be friends with you."

Blaise's dark eyes were squeezed shut, his hands struggling against the pale chest pressing into him. He could feel Draco's hot breath on his face and if the bloke had transformed, Blaise decided it was something he never wished to see.

Draco resisted the urge to slash through the tanned skin of his friend's face, instead curling his hands into fists, willing his talons into fingertips. He took the few necessary moments required to calm himself and felt the ire ebbing as quickly as it had come. He detested it. He detested all of it.

He didn't want to embrace the strangeness coursing through his veins. He didn't want to crave anything the way he craved her. He couldn't have her, he knew he couldn't and it was killing him. Apolline of course had other ideas, but the flicker of hope was terrifying to entertain.

"Tell me about her?" Draco exhaled harshly through his open mouth, slowly stepping away from a still Blaise.

Blaise warily opened one eye, holding his breath and flinched. Draco's eyes were black as pitch and he looked absolutely pained, but the gravel had left his voice as well as the rage, which was slightly comforting.

"You're not…" Blaise cleared his throat noisily and sidestepped his oldest friend. He walked a short ways through the garden and sat upon a wrought iron bench. "You're not going to eat me, are you?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Does it look like I go about eating people? And if that were my intention do you think I'd admit it? Oh hello Blaise, I eat people, come along, hop into the pot." He ignored Blaise's flinch and sat beside him.

"Well shit, when you put it like that…but how am I supposed to know anything? You tell me you're this magical creature and the woman I'm seeing…er…was seeing is your soul mate and she'll never have you but instead of I don't know, sending her an owl you're pouting." Blaise caught a glimpse of Madame Delacour gazing down at them from the house and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Blaise, don't you remember those women at the Quidditch World Cup? It was just before the start of fourth year and…"

"No, Draco I don't! Because you bloody uninvited me because you said your father couldn't risk having me about when my family hadn't declared their loyalty to Lord Crazypants!"

"Sweet Merlin, are you still pissed about that? Regardless, you have to remember the bints from Beaubaxton's during the Triwizard Championship."

"How could I forget? They were practically sex with legs. They were Veelas weren't they then? I heard if you pissed them off enough they turned into harpies…Salazar's ghost you're a fucking harpy!"

"I damn well told you I'm a magical creature. For some inane reason I believed my best mate was astute enough to go through an internal list of magical creatures and come to the correct conclusion. Apparently I was wrong and my best mate is as brilliant as a Weasley. Fantastic." Draco threw his long arms into the air before standing.

He grumbled to himself as he left Blaise sitting dumbstruck in the garden. Draco traipsed through the tall grasses, around the wayward rocks and through the trees until he flung open the pair of doors near the back of the house. Normally he was much more respectful when it came to Apolline and her home, but he was at his wit's end and it seemed to be growing worse by the moment.

"Mama, yoo must come and veesit soon. Eet 'az been too long. Victoire is growing so fast."

Draco bit his tongue so hard he felt the coppery liquid spurt into his mouth and swallowed hard. He didn't spare a glance for the wispy blonde witch he knew was glowering at him. Instead he stood directly next to the sideboard and poured himself a large tumbler of brandy.

"Why ees 'e 'ere?" Fleur Weasley tapped her wand against the robin's egg blue dress gracing her thigh.

Draco raised his glass in silent salute, glaring at her while his chest rumbled with menace. Apolline casually stepped to her left, blocking his view of her daughter, which was probably for the best.

"Fleur, mind your place. He's my guest and you'll treat him as such. I shan't have you taking issue with my student." Fleur knew better than to press her luck. Her mother was a formidable witch and as much as she detested Draco Malfoy, she nodded briefly in acceptance.

"Student? I don't…oh! Blaise, eet eez lovely to see yoo. 'ave yoo brought 'ermione?" Fleur's cheeks shone brightly while she waved congenially to Blaise.

Blaise had enough sense to retreat, sensing Draco's displeasure before he witnessed it firsthand. It appeared as though Apolline had immeasurable experience in this matter as she stepped into the fray. Her hands were tightly clenched into white knuckled fists and even Fleur retreated from her mother.

There was a light humming in the air, akin to the buzz of a fly, with the slightest undertone of vibration as evidenced by the gentlest rattle of the windows. Blaise nervously drew a silent breath, keeping Apolline in his sight and the doorknob in his back. He had decided if things were to get heated, he'd make a quick escape to the garden. Courage and bravery simply were not in his Slytherin repertoire and he wasn't the least bit ashamed.

"Fleur sit down." Apolline never took her eyes off Draco who was obviously straining to control himself.

Fleur's watery blue eyes glanced between Blaise and her mother before she locked onto Draco Malfoy. She sucked a hiss between her teeth, yet sat under protest. His eyes were dark as pitch, his fangs having protruded to prick his bottom lip and the growl rumbling in his chest grew louder with every breath.

"Mère, pourquoi est-il ici? Vous ne devriez pas être l'aidant. Elle ne acceptera jamais de lui, elle est Hermione Granger et il est le fils d'un Mangemort. (Mother, why is he here? You should not be aiding him. She will never accept him, she is Hermione Granger and he is the son of a Death Eater.)

Even in his muddled haze, Draco was surprised by Fleur's quick deductions. Silently he cursed her. He was in the midst of a practiced calming exercise, which was working slowly but surely, until the stupid bint mentioned her name. His limbs were trembling with the exertion, the sweat dripping from his brow and down his back. Draco was unsure he would be capable of maintaining the thin wisp of control for a moment longer.

"Elle est mieux sans des gens comme lui. Bien, il est assez beau. Hermione est une gentille fille, mais elle ne pourrait jamais être considéré comme assez." (She deserves much better than the likes of him. Though, he is quite good looking. Hermione is a nice girl, but she could never be considered pretty.)

Fleur laughed, not realising the immense danger she had just placed herself. Her elegant hand waved lightly in the air before covering her mouth. She took her eyes off Draco, basking in the glory of her facetious behaviour. Apolline cursed under her breath, her fists still clenched, but she underestimated him.

Draco leapt over the new striped sofa and crashed into Fleur without a sound. Her breath was knocked from her small fame as she hit the wall behind her. She clawed at the wrist wrapped around her throat and her feet flailed as the grip tightened. Fleur felt the talons prick her skin and immediately stilled.

Fleur didn't have experience in these matters. She hadn't the urges which accompanied being Veela. She wasn't full Veela or even half like her mother. Fleur had been trained nonetheless, on the off chance such inclinations arose, but it had proved to be unnecessary in the long run. She loved Bill Weasley and she could never imagine loving anyone else, but it wasn't the Veela compulsion which propelled her forward. Fleur wasn't capable of comprehending such a yearning; therefore it was easy for her to be flippant toward the palpable pain of others.

"Draco, let her go." Apolline implored him, unable to force him into acquiescence. He had grown incredibly strong and she knew it wouldn't be long before he sought out his mate.

"Tu ne sais rien. Vous ne serez jamais parler d'elle à nouveau, pas même en passant. Si vous pensez même à elle, je vais déchirer vos lèvres de votre visage. Est-ce que tu comprends? (You know nothing. You shall never speak of her again, not even in passing. If you even think of her, I will rip your lips from your face. Do you understand?) Draco dropped her to the floor, feeling a certain amount of satisfaction to see Fleur Weasley gasping for breath and the finger sized bruises decorating her pale neck.

"Oui." Fleur managed to choke while on her knees, taking great breaths of oxygen.

"Blaise, be a dear and take Draco to the kitchen. I'm sure he could do with a bite to eat." Apolline had remained emotionally detached from the situation until Fleur was dropped to the floor.

She was impressed with Draco's control. While she'd never voice such concern, the idea of Draco murdering her daughter and the fallout of such a thing had graced her mind. The Ministry of Magic would forgive such a thing. They would place the blame on Fleur for interfering with Veela mating rituals and they wouldn't be wrong, but Apolline did not wish to see her daughter fall in such a manner.

"You know I could not interfere, Fleur." She levitated the gasping witch and placed her on the sofa. "I had often wondered if you were cursed with Veela compulsions, especially after you were so adamantly set on marrying Bill Weasley despite his unfortunate disfigurement. I see now, I was wrong. If you had been possessed by the slightest bit of Veela magic, you would not have badgered him so." Apolline warmed the pot of tea and poured them each a cup.

"I-I…thought 'e was like me." Fleur finally rasped, sipping the tea to soothe her raw throat.

"I suppose it wouldn't be such a farfetched idea; however you were wrong to assume. You put yourself in mortal danger and for what? It's not as if you know the boy. You only know that which you've been told and if I recall correctly, at one time you were quite intrigued with him as well." Fleur had the decency to blush under her mother's scrutiny as she stared into the swirling tea leaves.

"I am to guess 'e eez like yoo?"

"I suppose that is an accurate assessment. He is stronger than I was at that age. He has much more control, even in the face of rejection. He does not go to her not because he doesn't want her. No, he lives and breathes for her. He does not go to her because he does not feel worthy and he is afraid. He is the first half-Veela male to be seen in over a century if I'm recalling our history correctly. He loathes her as much as he loves her. Personally, I believe he loathes himself and regrets his childish antics, yet he refuses to see how he's grown. He's not that hateful boy the Weasleys are determined to brand him. He is not his father's son. He has a chance with her. I've kept an eye on her; she's much more receptive than her counterparts." Apolline stroked her daughter's hand, sensing the wariness before she saw it in the familiar blue eyes.

Fleur's bony yet regal shoulders sagged with defeat. As hard as she tried, in the short span of time she'd had, Fleur was not able to refute her mother's words. She wanted her mother to be wrong, but she had noticed the Malfoy heir and witnessed his subtle change.

Fleur had seen him speak civilly with Harry Potter and refrain from calling her brother-in-law a Weasel, though it looked as though it pained him. She knew he had donated thousands of galleons to charities as Bill never stopped singing his praises, much to Ron's chagrin.

"Victoire ran from me. 'e brought 'er back." Fleur whispered, her long fingers massaging the tender points of her throat.

"If Draco Malfoy were truly the boy Ronald Weasley was determined to impress upon us, would he have returned Victoire? She talked of him for days. Apparently he bought her an ice cream and brought her to Gringotts after scolding her quite severely for leaving her mummy." Fleur bowed her head with shame.

She had never thanked him properly for returning her daughter. She had snatched Victoire from his arms and held her daughter close, covering her face in kisses. Fleur remembered the look in his eyes as he watched their interactions, only now recognizing it for what it was. It was longing. She imagined he'd never shared a moment of true affection with anyone and it pained her to admit it.

"Ermione is at ze Ministree every Monday.

* * *

"I can't wait any longer." Draco paced the length of Apolline's kitchen with angry determination.

He had ripped off his shirt in a moment of consternation, wrenching himself free of Blaise's concerned grasp. His skin was on fire and while that wasn't a new sensation, it was overloading his ability to remain in control of his facilities.

Draco had been very careful to never speak her name and Apolline had been most accommodating in that respect as well. He swore he could feel her around him and while he knew it was his senses toying with him, he longed for her.

"She's different. Did I tell you that? She still spends entirely too much time with her books, but she's softer around the edges than when we were in school. She's friends with Pansy if you can believe that. I think…you should give it a try. Talk to her or something. It's better than torturing yourself." Blaise helped himself to a handful of biscuits. He put forth a concerted effort to distract his friend and while he wasn't sure, Blaise would bet speaking of her would aid the shaking of Draco's limbs.

"I wouldn't even know what to say to her. I haven't…seen her in bloody years. I can't just…" Draco was aware of a cooling sensation working its way through his veins and sighed with relief.

"Why can't you then? You could send her an owl. You could make a ridiculous donation to her Foundation. She'd be obligated to meet with you then."

"I've kept her bloody Foundation afloat I'll have you know. Don't speak a word of it. I worked very hard to keep it anonymous, until I was ready, or rather until Apolline believed me to be ready." Draco splashed a handful of cool water on his face while leaning over the sink basin, staring out the window.

"How much longer do you think you'll have to wait?" Blaise crossed his arms; still processing the simple fact his oldest friend was a beast in disguise.

"I don't know if I can wait. I've been in bloody France, allowing Apolline to teach me how to control it, but I don't feel any closer to anything."

"You want to be closer to her."

"Are you mad? I don't want to be closer to her; I still bloody can't stand her. I need it. I need her. I feel as if I'll never take a full breath again if I don't have her."

"Maybe that's the problem Malfoy. Maybe Madame Delacour would be more apt to allow you to leave if you stopped fighting against it so much. You really should give her a chance."

Draco sank into one of the wooden chairs at the small round table with laboured breaths. He always did hate it when Blaise was correct in his assumptions. It really wasn't anything Apolline hadn't said but it was completely different hearing it from his oldest friend.

"Do you…do you really think she'd accept me?" Blaise blinked, which was the only indication of his surprise. He resisted the urge to smirk with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy was bloody terrified of Hermione Granger. It amused him to no end quite frankly, but he managed to keep himself in check. Being eaten by an angry harpy wasn't on his list of current priorities.

"Malfoy, she searching for something, I'll tell you that much. Her…"

"Don't, please don't say her name, I can't bear it." Draco allowed his head to fall into the crook of his arm on the table.

"She's worked her fingers to the bone for that Foundation. Potter and Weasley aren't exactly supportive. They'll still friends I suppose, but she's really stopped listening to their opinions about anything really. I swear she dated me just to watch the Weasley's face turn a brilliant shade of red."

"I don't care about them Zabini."

"Aye, you're barely willing to admit you care for her." Blaise snickered, plopping his large frame into the chair across from Draco. "She's on friendly terms with your mum; yeah I thought that would get your attention." Blaise winked with a sparkle in his eyes, waiting for the barrage of questions he was absolutely sure would follow.

"My pureblood mother is cavorting with…with…with _her_? You mean to say, they haven't come to blows or…or…"

"I think your mum is making a concerted effort. She still manages to purse her lips and make some errant comments about _her_ hair, but in the end, it's all quite congenial." Blaise shrugged in that nonchalant manner he was accustomed and simply waited.

Draco's eyes opened and closed, his head quirked to the side. Blaise assumed he was attempting to imagine a life with her and his parents accepting such a thing.

"Do you really think my mother…" Draco paused, struggling to formulate the words with the strangest feeling fluttering in his chest. He leapt from his seat to pace the length of the kitchen so quickly Blaise was becoming dizzy.

"From what you've told me, I think your mum wouldn't be thrilled but she'd be thankful you found exactly whom you needed."

"You think I need her?" Draco searched the depths of his friends eyes searching for the solution, but knowing it would never come from Blaise.

"I'm going to set aside the fact you've told me you need her for a moment. You spent all our years at Hogwarts hating her and I don't think it had anything to do with her dirty blood. You growl at me and I'll fucking hex you. She bested you in every bloody class besides Potion which I still maintain is due to Snape. She had friends, real friends that bloody well loved her not those dunces that followed you around. Never mind the glaringly obvious fact of your father. Lucius has always been a right prick and I know you didn't have a choice in the matter, but you do now." Blaise knew he had to tread carefully yet he'd had just about enough.

He was tired just watching Draco pace about. It didn't take long for the words to seep into Draco's frosty exterior. Blaise hadn't expected him to rush through the side door and head directly for the garden.

"Where is he?" Apolline approached the tanned wizard slowly, still cradling her tepid cup of tea.

"He was right…well shit." Blaise pointed to the garden, but Draco was gone.

He cast a quick Disillusionment Charm over himself, unwilling to be seen wandering the atrium of the Ministry. He definitely wasn't ready to see her, but he hadn't a choice in the matter, not anymore. The dreams had been plaguing him as of late. They were much more intense than he expected. Apolline, of course, had simply smiled that Cheshire cat smile and nodded knowingly.

It was Blaise's fault he was even there in the first place. At least that's what Draco Malfoy continued to tell himself while he stood behind _her_ in the lift. He had quickly removed the charm before stepping into the lift. He wasn't about to risk terrifying some errant occupant.

She hadn't noticed him straight off. She had been ensconced in a heated conversation with a short, unattractive wizard. He studied the angry blush upon her cheeks and her tightly clenched hands. Draco knew she was moments away from hexing the wizard as her animosity came off her in waves.

"Hermione! Hold the lift yeah?!" Draco stiffened upon hearing Harry Potter shout for her.

Instinctively he wished to thrust her behind him and bear his teeth, but he controlled the urge, as difficult as it was. He swallowed the growl which rumbled in his chest and it must have caught her attention. She turned toward him with a smile still on her face leftover from waving to Harry. Her smile faltered, but didn't fall and his heart was in his throat.

Draco had never truly seen her smile before and certainly not at him. His lips parted at the shock of it, reigniting the blush on her cheeks in the moments before she grasped the rung in front of him. Draco would have preferred if she had taken the empty place across the lift so he may study her further but Harry Potter stepped in. Draco nodded curtly to the scar headed wizard, expecting a sneer. Instead he was pleasantly surprised to receive a curt nod in return.

He was suddenly having difficulty drawing a full breath. Hermione Granger had yanked her hair from its severe coif and it tumbled down her shoulders in beautiful disarray. Draco's heart was held in a fist, which squeezed so tightly he was sure he would lose consciousness. He inhaled deeply savoring the scent of parchment and the barest hint of lavender. He resisted the urge to finger her curls, curious as to their texture and how he refrained was beyond him. Draco only knew it was pure willpower.

When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, she was gone. In that moment Draco knew he'd never be able to stay away from her now. He was addicted and she was his drug of choice.


	3. Of Binding & Ties

**AN: I'm aware there are details 'missing' from this particular chapter...and all I have to say about that is: Patience, Grasshopper, patience.**

* * *

Of Binding &amp; Ties

* * *

It had happened slowly and the first time she saw him she was nervous. Hermione had half expected him to call her a Mudblood and push passed her, yet he hadn't. She knew he had been standing behind her on the lift, but neither had truly acknowledged the others existence, though she was fairly certain he had sniffed her hair.

The second time was much like the first. A few weeks later he had silently stood behind her on the lift and she offered him a small smile. She felt as though he wished to speak to her yet refrained. She wasn't against the idea of having a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy, but she wasn't exactly of a mind to purposely seek him out.

By the third time, she was convinced he was following her. She wasn't wrong, but he made a valiant effort to keep his desires contained. Inwardly, of course was a completely different story, until the day she confronted him in the Ministry's atrium.

"You're always here." She began, spinning on her heel. He had almost crashed into her, teetering on the tips of his toes in order to avoid contact.

Hermione Granger studied the shock ridden Draco Malfoy with a practiced eye. He was always a few steps behind her, but never far and she was curious. Her rigid schedule had her walking through the Ministry every Monday afternoon and Draco Malfoy was always present.

"I do business here, Granger." He tried to maintain his cool façade. His Malfoy smirk was firmly in place, but she paid no attention to such things. She was drawn to his eyes. They were alight with life and an intensity she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Hermione shrugged, narrowing her eyes. She didn't believe him yet at the same time she was strangely grateful for the fact he wasn't intent upon cruelty. It was a nice change. Vaguely she wondered what else had changed since their school days and briskly dismissed the thought.

"I don't think I believe you, Malfoy."

"Would I lie to you?" Draco winked at her then, which shocked her to the bone.

It wasn't strange enough Hermione Granger was almost certain Draco Malfoy was following her about. Apparently he was capable of not only being cordial but flirting, with _her_. His question startled her as well as his demeanor. While she spent a moment attempting to gauge his intentions, he studied her closely.

Draco had managed to watch her from afar and learn her habits, but standing directly in front of her staring into her expressive brown eyes was something completely different. He had promised Apolline he wouldn't touch her, but he wasn't certain how much longer he would be able to keep his word. Hermione Granger was absolutely delectable and she hadn't the slightest idea.

"I-I don't…know."

"Smart girl. Why do you think I'm here then?" Draco crossed his arms, not because he was angry but only because if he hadn't, he would have whisked her into his arms. She wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready for any of this, but Merlin how he wished she were.

"I think…you're following me." Hermione bit the corner of her lip, her cheeks instantly flushing when he gaze immediately dropped to her lips.

He smiled; a real smile and it took her breath away. She'd seen the cold smiles on the front page of the Daily Prophet, barely tolerating the airheaded witch on his arm. She'd seen his glowers, smirks, snarls and even once she vaguely recalled the sound of his laughter, but she'd never seen him truly smile and if she had, it was certainly never directed at her.

Draco stepped toward her then and her heart fluttered furiously. She resisted the urge to glance around the atrium to see the sort of attention they were garnering and held her ground. Hermione reasoned she had faced plenty in her lifetime and she would not cower before the bane of her childhood.

The determined glint in her eyes was more arousing than he thought possible. Draco leaned toward her, using a singular fingertip to tuck a stubborn curl behind her ear.

"I think you're right." He whispered in a low and sultry tone that practically had her melting at his feet. Her eyes had closed when his breath had brushed across her ear, yet when she opened them, he was gone.

'_What the hell just happened?' _ Hermione barely remembered maneuvering through the Ministry until she was on the street, gazing at the stormy clouds.

She pondered her encounter with Draco Malfoy, her feet leading her toward her favourite bookshop and she browsed the aisles unseeing. Mentally Hermione sifted through her short list of friends in order to closely examine her interaction with Malfoy. It didn't take her but a moment to realise Ginny was absolutely out of the question.

She had grown closer to the red haired witch than she was during their Hogwarts days, but that was primarily due to the end of Ginny's hero worship in regard to Harry Potter. Even Ginny would be the first to admit she had been downright insufferable during the short time she and Harry had actually dated. It didn't take them long to realise their relationship was never truly going to see the light of day. Ginny had outgrown her infatuation and Harry had discovered while he cared about her, he dated her to appease his surrogate family more than himself. Molly was quite put out, but that was nothing new really.

Molly had practically hyperventilated when Hermione and Ron had broken things off soon after the end of the war. She had lamented for months over the loss of her 'second daughter' and no matter how many times Hermione turned up at the Burrow for family affairs, Molly was convinced she'd desert them once she found a new wizard. Hermione had long since stopped attempting to convince Molly otherwise. It was pointless.

Most things were these days. Her Foundation for Wayward Witches and Wizards was receiving bad press from a handful of pureblood families determined to destroy her. Hermione knew it wasn't necessarily _her_, but the idea that a Muggle-born witch could possibly succeed where they had failed. It was laughable really and she knew it as well as they did. It wasn't as if they had rallied around the lost and orphaned children at the end of the war. They had simply looked down their nose at those less fortunate than themselves and carried on with their lives the way they always had. Personally, Hermione thought it was absolutely disgusting. She did the best she could with her resources, but they were quickly dwindling.

Hermione blinked hard and stopped in the middle of a dusty aisle. She closed her eyes and leaned against the shelf, swallowing back the tears. She had always hated to fail and the very idea that the Foundation, the charity she had spilled her blood, sweat and tears into would be forced to turn away the dozens of children that needed her, physically hurt.

"I knew I'd find you here. If there had been anyone else around I would have bet them on it, but of course it was just me. Bloody ridiculous, we really need to hire at least three other people though a straight half dozen would be even better. We received a missive from Headmistress McGonagall and she's planning on directing at least a dozen Muggle-born orphans to your Foundation. I can't believe you've done it. However did you manage it?" Pansy Parkinson fluttered into the shop, her dark hair swinging while her nose crinkled in distaste at the layers of dust surrounding her.

Hermione almost smiled. If someone had told her five years ago that she would happily be working side by side with Pansy Parkinson she probably would have hexed them into the next century. She had always thought Harry and Ron would remain her very best friends, but that wasn't necessarily true. They had each moved forward in their own direction and grown apart. It didn't hurt her feelings any. They were truly adults now and she was pleased with the many different ways they had all grown.

"I don't know what you're going on about Pans." Pansy huffed in exasperation, tossing her manicured hands into the air.

While she was forever grateful Hermione Granger had given her a second chance in life by offering her a job when she was in dire straits, she'd be lying if she said Hermione didn't grate on her nerves. Pansy watched Hermione work her fingers to the bone and continuously throw money at her beloved Foundation. She hardly bothered with dating, which Pansy couldn't begin to understand. She had forced Hermione to accept a few errant dates and besides an incredibly short courtship from one Blaise Zabini, nothing had come of it. It infuriated her quite honestly. Silently she wondered how on earth she was ever going to broach the subject of dating Ron Weasley if Hermione remained single.

"You must know something! I went to Gringotts this morning to check the Foundation account since they didn't send us our end of month statement. There are hundreds of thousands of galleons in there. I went directly to your office and there was a solicitor there who presented me with the deed for that raggedy building you've obsessed over. We must go over and see what needs to be done. I'm sure it's in quite a state of disrepair." Pansy ignored the obvious confusion laced with quite a bit of despair on the smaller witches face and grasped her hand.

Hermione allowed herself to be pulled along until she was standing before one of the oldest buildings on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. She had fallen in love with it the moment she'd seen it. Harry and Ron of course had been nothing short of obnoxious in their assessments. The tall iron gates had surely screamed old money at one point, but the mansion had been abandoned shortly after Voldemort's first disappearance. At least that's what Hermione had learned while voraciously studying its history.

"I can't believe I let you Apparate us here. My stomach is still reeling." Pansy rolled her eyes, ignoring Hermione's melodramatics.

"Chin up, Granger, it isn't as if you've never done it before. I'm quite aware you hate it. It's not like it's a bloody secret. I haven't got all day you know. I have a date with R…well no matter. I have a date and I prefer to be presentable." Pansy shoved open the only iron gates, oblivious to the fact they didn't creak.

"Pans?" Hermione followed her slowly, eyeing the rose bushes lining the fence which she knew hadn't been there before and the numerous shrubs lining the front of the formidable mansion.

"Yes, someone's obviously been there. Perhaps they felt sorry for you. Can we go inside now?"

"I have to get this off my chest. It's been bothering me for weeks and as strange as it is to admit this, I haven't anyone else." Hermione refused to walk further than the wide front steps, sitting down and plucking bits of lint from her skirt.

"Get on with it then." Pansy crossed her arms and tapped her foot, but Hermione could see the nervousness seeping through her carefully formulated pretenses.

"Listen, I know you're dating Ron. I don't care. Well I care in that we're friends and I'm happy if you're happy. Please sit down or something I can't speak to you when you're glaring at me like that." Wordlessly, Pansy sat beside her, her mouth having fallen open. Hermione smiled and clucked Pansy under her chin. "You'll catch flies."

"That's disgusting. Alright, so if you don't wish to speak of my dating habits, what's wrong?" Pansy bumped Hermione's shoulder, eliciting a small grin.

"I don't know, nothing, everything. I'm confused. If there's a man you suspect of following you about, what do you do about it?"

"You punch him a lot, in his face and then in his bollocks. Wait, Muggle or Magical?" Pansy's dark brows drew together in a serious frown. She was slightly alarmed by the question and knew there was much Hermione Granger still chose to keep to herself.

"Magical."

"Oh, in that case you hex him and tell him to bugger off." Pansy shrugged quickly.

"This isn't working at all. Alright how did you wind up dating Ron?"

"Ugh I don't even know. I didn't even like him. I hated him. I hated his horrid red hair and all those freckles are completely unseemly. He's got a terrible temper and he's stubborn. He's completely inept at doing anything for himself; I don't know what you ever saw in him. Then, I don't know, he just kept showing up everywhere I went. I go to that little café near your office and he was there. He was always there. He didn't say anything in the beginning; he'd just sort of look at me and look away. Eventually we segued into hellos. The tips of his ears would turn red whenever he saw me and I thought it was sweet.

'It's different than before. We're not in school anymore. The Golden Couple is no longer together, the Golden Boy is dating Luna, which I never saw coming. He sent me an owl and asked me for tea. I suppose I thought it couldn't hurt any. It's not as if I have loads of friends and suitors vying for my attention. He was such a bumbling idiot. He spilt tea all over my lap, knocked the tray of finger sandwiches onto the floor and stepped on my foot, but he was sweet. I decided it was endearing rather than anything else. If Hermione Granger could see past my Slytherin nature to give me a chance when no one else would, then I can look past Ron Weasley's faults and give it a go." Pansy sighed and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"There's been a wizard I've been seeing. Not that sort of seeing, I mean I've seen him a few times in the past month or so. The only reason I believe it to be strange is due to the fact it's always at the Ministry. You know I only go there…"

"Monday afternoons, yeah I know. Has he spoken to you? Do you know who he is?"

"I know his name, yes. He spoke to me today. Well actually I confronted him and then he spoke to me but I didn't think he would. I thought he'd be nasty and make some scathing remark, but he didn't and I felt…" Hermione paused, frowning heavily.

She didn't know how to quantify the way she felt. Logically she knew she shouldn't be feeling anything at all, but he was the flame and she was drawn to him. Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before the moth flew into the flame to be consumed unto its entirety until it expired and she was quite terrified to be the moth.

"You felt nervous and unsure of yourself and since you're Hermione Granger you're not used to feeling the same as us mere mortals. Come on then, tell me his name."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Hermione rose to her feet on unsteady limbs and turned toward the ridiculously ornate door.

She gasped spying the large engraved plaque beside the double doors.

_Granger's Foundation for Wayward Witches &amp; Wizards_

"You've got one hell of a secret admirer Hermione." Pansy fingered the gold plaque in awe, taking a moment to revel in its obvious cost. "Whoever this bloke is you should marry him immediately."

"Pans, you know that's the last thing on my mind. I'm married to my work, it's enough." Hermione gave Pansy a tight smile and shoved open the double doors.

"You're a terrible liar. You always have been. I don't know why you feel the need to lie to me. I'm not going to judge you for the secret longings of your heart. Tell me more about this wizard who's obsessed with you." Pansy shoved Hermione through the foyer, secretly gaping at the luxurious space but she'd never admit to such things. "Don't even think of exploring. Look, there's a delightful little nook in the corner. It's even surrounded by those ridiculous plants you adore."

Hermione scarcely had the chance to blink and she was being pushed, prodded and downright shoved into a serene nook. It was surrounded by windows which kissed the vaulted ceiling on two sides. A pair of ivory armchairs was caddy corner to each other decorated in a lovely pattern of red vines and flowers. The large green leaf plants concealed the majority of the area, giving the semblance of privacy and Hermione instantly adored it. The small golden brown table between the chairs was overflowing with white lilies, her absolute favourite. Hermione couldn't help but to wonder who on earth had not only done such a thing, but encompassed her desires for the Foundation so fully.

"I really think we should give this place a once over. We have no idea what sort of condition anything is in and…"

"Stop stalling Granger. If the rest of this place looks half as good as the entry we'll be sitting pretty. Come on then, tell Pansy everything."

"There's barely anything to tell! I don't know why you're insisting on making such a fuss." Hermione practically moaned when she reclined upon the armchair. It was as if she were sitting on a piece of heaven.

"The more you protest the more I'm going to push. You'd think you would have learned that by now? How long have we worked together?" Pansy ruffled the dark hair lying neatly along the back of her neck and pouted.

She was a Slytherin and knew she always would be at heart. Manipulating Hermione Granger was simply another day at the office.

"I keep seeing him. I don't know what to make of it. We're not…we were never…friends or anything remotely similar and I can't understand it." Hermione blushed and hid her face in her hands, completely embarrassed.

"So you were never friends with him, that's interesting and it completely eradicates every Gryffindor in the history of the world. From the furious blush upon your cheeks and your stubborn unwillingness to speak his name, I rather believe he's a Slytherin." Pansy tapped her tented fingers together and studied the brown eyes which widened with the smallest trace of fear.

Hermione's lips parted as she had prepared a scathing retort, yet her attention was drawn to the beastly looking owl which had glided into the entryway and dropped a small parcel in her lap.

"I know that owl." Pansy whispered, her lips barely moving, her expressive dark eyes blinking in shock.

She scrutinized Hermione while the witch carefully peeled open the expensively wrapped parcel. Pansy knew she couldn't dare tell Hermione the truth of the matter. The poor witch would faint dead away and as amusing as the thought was, she didn't wish to be responsible for such things.

"I can't accept this. It really is getting a bit on the ridiculous side with these sorts of gifts." Hermione sighed, her eyes never leaving the sparkling piece of jewelry in the long velvet box.

"What is it then?" Hermione shoved the box at Pansy with a frown.

She didn't know what to make of it. The anonymous contributions were one thing, but this building and that exorbitant gift were something completely different. If she knew the identity of her benefactor, she definitely would have paid him a visit and demanded an explanation.

As for Pansy Parkinson, she knew better than to touch the piece and simply stroked the velvet in awe. It was absolutely exquisite and she knew it would fall upon her to manipulate Hermione into wearing it. It was a bracelet and while it was simple in nature, Pansy had an eye for gems and it was quite costly. The magical properties were sending a clear message as it hummed lightly.

Hermione of course, was completely oblivious and had barely spared the bracelet a second glance after her shock had ebbed. She allowed Pansy to stare at it for a few moments, strangely intrigued by the knowledge alight in Pansy's dark eyes. She was planning on snatching the box from the delicate hands, but the soft clip of shoes across the marble floor distracted her.

"I bloody well wasn't expecting this when I got your missive Pans."

"What is he doing here?" Hermione hissed, yanking Pansy close to her.

"We need outside help and I thought you'd prefer to surround yourself with those self-sacrificing Gryffindor's rather than anyone else. I believe Lovegood is set to stop in later today, haven't got a problem with that as well?" Pansy shoved Hermione a bit and spun on her heel to greet the tall blond wizard.

"I wasn't sure you'd come." Pansy smiled sweetly while offering her hand.

"Almost didn't, that one there is a bit terrifying." The wizard gestured toward a furious Hermione Granger nervously.

"She'll be alright; she simply requires a moment to collect herself. It would help immensely if you were on your best behaviour." He gave Hermione a once over and admitted to himself she was much prettier than she had been during their school days. He rather wished he had given it a proper go.

"Ms Granger." He offered his hand easily, his green eyes dropping to the velvet box.

Hermione ignored his hand, glaring at him. It was obvious she was displeased with his presence, but he really did have honorable intentions for agreeing to join her cause. He was well aware of the glaring fact he was a bit pompous and self-centered but that's exactly what she needed. Hermione required an aggressive staff to propel her Foundation forward. She was timid and despised being forced to beg for funding. Pansy had mistakenly informed him of the more than generous donation which had clinched the deal for him. With his looks and her money, they could splash across the front page of Daily Prophet on a regular basis, which was a delectable idea.

"That's a lovely piece. Does the esteemed Hermione Granger have an admirer or is it a secret yet deliciously elicit relationship she wishes to keep under wraps?" He winked and one long fair finger touched the bracelet before Pansy could utter a word.

Pansy was expecting the jolt which ripped through the wizard's stiff body, but she hadn't anticipated him being tossed halfway across the room and taking her along for the ride. She managed to twist her body thereby allowing him to take the brunt of the landing, but it was still incredibly painful. She didn't bother to lift herself from the pristine floor. Pansy decided perhaps it was in her best interest to simply lie there for a few moments to collect herself.

"What are you doing? Get up!" Hermione shouted at them unaware it was her gift which had caused such upheaval.

"Granger, this is your bloody fault. Put the fucking bracelet on before someone gets killed." Pansy grumbled while she straightened her skirt prior to getting to her feet.

She was thankful the speckled marble floor was immaculate; otherwise she would have been quite put out. She stomped over to Hermione and snatched the black velvet box from her shaking fingers. Carefully, using the corner of her multilayered puce skirt Pansy lifted the bracelet from the box, feeling a jolt of magic despite her precautions.

"I'm not bloody wearing that." Hermione's eyes were drawn to the piece and her heart fluttered in her chest, but she simply ascribed such things to the unexpected excitement of the situation.

She held her hand out expectantly and Pansy arched a perfectly manicured black eyebrow before unceremoniously releasing the bracelet. It hovered in the air for the barest hint of a moment and before Hermione could blink, the jeweled bracelet wrapped itself around her wrist. The ends met, instantly fusing together in a blinding golden light.

* * *

Apolline Delacour tossed open each door lining the corridor, slamming it swiftly upon discovering them empty. She was absolutely furious with her charge. She had known he was a cunning sort, as was a given considering his long and sordid history but he had crossed the line.

"I know you're here! You can't hide forever!" Apolline rarely lost her temper, but Draco Malfoy had pushed her to the limit.

She rued the day she had told him of the Sacrament. It wasn't meant to be used for his amusement. The piece was centuries old and he had the gall to alter it for his personal use.

"You really need to stop projecting your thoughts. I could hear you all the way in Diagon Alley for Salazar's sake and you're completely wrong." Draco Malfoy ruffled the Daily Prophet between his hands, glancing over the top toward Apolline.

"You haven't altered the Sacrament? You haven't taken it upon yourself to utilise the Tie that Binds without even having a discussion with her? Do you have any idea what you've done? Why you've stripped the poor girl of her choices. She has the right to choose Draco. You…"

"I've done nothing of the sort, however if you wish to continue to berate me, I require libation." Apolline's ire slowly ebbed while observing her relaxed student.

She'd never witnessed this particular version of Draco Malfoy. Apolline had seen his anger, his upset, his fear but never had she seen him…was that a bloody smile? Her mouth gaped open and if her mother were still of the living, she would have withered in disappointment. She backed slowly into the high backed cushioned chair and continued to stare as Draco conversed with a house elf she deduced was called Sunshine.

"What have you done?" Apolline finally whispered, her hand pressed to her breast.

"I took your advice actually." Draco sipped from his goblet, lazily leaning against the wall. "I've stopped fighting against myself, against the idea of Hermione Granger." His fingertip spun quickly around the rim of his goblet.

"Y-you said her name." Apolline wasn't sure what to make of it, of any of it.

Draco had grown by leaps and bounds without her instruction and it made her question her worth. Apolline Delacour prided herself on her educational abilities. She had been requested many times over when it came to foundling Magical Creatures. Her expertise was not limited to Veela and yet here was the strongest half-blood Veela in their history preparing for The Ritual without her. It was almost inconceivable.

"Your eyes are much more expressive than you intend them to be. You doubt yourself which is ridiculous. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been capable of speaking her name, let alone actually exchanging words with her. I never could have risked it. I would have done much like my mother did to my father and I want to…I want to be better than that. I had to do something…" Draco paused unable to meet her gaze.

He knew she was still angry with him and it caused him pain. He had grown quite attached to her, though he had never expressed such affection. Draco knew Apolline meant well, but at the same time she ruled with an iron fist. He had never managed to be particularly patient nor had he managed to control the flair of hatred which arose for stringent rules.

"The Sacrament…will you tell me about it?" Apolline had regained some modicum of discipline over her rampant fluctuating emotions and slowly crossed her legs.

"I asked my mother for it. She'd kept it in an ornately carved wooden box which is probably older than us all. I procured the services of an old goblin in order to have him remove the original stones yet preserve their magic. They're encased in the box." Draco gestured toward the curio cabinet beside his mentor, gauging her reaction.

"I'm really trying to understand your motive Draco. You are well aware of how powerful The Sacrament is and if she hasn't accepted you and she wears it…"

"Apolline, The Sacrament is a load of bollocks. I've studied it, I've asked the nasty little goblin to research its history for me and while I parted with many a galleon I discovered something. You informed me its purpose was to strengthen the bond between mate and Veela but that's not true. It's not true at all. It's enslavement, hence the reason I had it altered. I don't wish to enslave her. I wish for her to feel the way I feel, to crave me the way I breathe for her. I wish her to open her mind to the possibilities not be ensnared in such a way she'd resent me if she ever learned the truth." Draco tapped his finger on the goblet, his eyes narrowing slightly when Apolline sighed heavily.

"I honestly find it difficult to believe the original intentions of The Sacrament was to enslave, but I suppose over the course of time there were some Veela who were willing to do most anything to secure their mate. You have to understand; before the Ministry began making allowances for our kind we were practically hunted. It was impossible to reveal ourselves without fear of execution. The Sacrament hasn't been used in over a century. Your mother chose to forgo its magic, even after she claimed your father."

Draco gasped; his grey eyes alight with excitement. He set his goblet on the glass table, his left hand instantly covering his right. He inadvertently purred, which startled Apolline. She studied the serene expression on his face with a practiced eye, even as he ignored her probing stare.

"Before you even ask, I asked the goblin to forge rings as well. Goblins made materials really are exquisite. He used the metals of The Sacrament; she does have incredibly small wrists after all. Each stone I chose for a specific reason, not to control but to enhance. The ring I wear is magically linked to The Sacrament, which is a ridiculous name by the way. They should have called it exactly what it is; The Tie that Binds. I utilised rose quartz for my stone and for the matching stones beside the clasp of her bracelet for the purpose of…"

"Giving and receiving love, yes that was quite astute of you. I assume then you also incorporated jade, kunzite and emerald?" Apolline's eyes danced in amusement. The poor boy really was quite besotted with the girl. It seemed he was more apt to admit to such driving emotions than deny they exist, which was progress by leaps and bounds.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Truthfulness is the foundation to any relationship, hence the jade, though I'm wary of her reactions. She does happen to be quite blunt when the mood strikes her. I want her heart to be opened but I don't wish to control it and of course the emeralds, well any fool knows they're the symbol of forever love but it's the center stone which fascinates me the most. Gobby suggested it. No, that isn't his name but I couldn't bloody pronounce it nor did I want too. Did you know?" Draco paced the cozy room, hoping upon hope his parents would leave them be. He knew their affinity for eavesdropping but he supposed it was his fault for returning to the Manor in the first place.

"I don't know to what you're referring? Did I know what? I know you've funneled hundreds of thousands of galleons to her and you not only purchased but had that ridiculous shabby building renovated for her. What else is there you'd like me to know?" Apolline was perplexed and such things did not occur often.

"She was gravely injured during the war. She caught a particularly nasty spell from Dolohov. She required numerous potions a day and the consensus was she would survive, but her ability to have children was held in question." Draco strangled the words, unable to quell the tidal wave of angst which completely encompassed him.

He couldn't imagine being unable to have children with her, it was physically painful just as it was frustrating. Draco might have slowly come to terms with his mind and heart wrestling within him until he accepted his fate, however he wasn't quite ready for the commitment of marriage, and children were the least of his concern. At least he believed they were until he discovered Hermione's injury. His Veela heritage demanded heirs and if it was within his power, he would make it so. He was terrified of losing her and he didn't even have her. It was terribly conflicting.

"That's impossible. Wait, how long ago was this?" Apolline's heart was thumping furiously beneath her breast.

"I'm not positive; I don't have an exact date or anything but at the very least it was four years ago or so. Does it matter?" Apolline exhaled a long sigh of relief.

"She's the reason you didn't manifest sooner. She was broken and it would have been impossible for you to claim her if she hadn't retained her reproductive abilities."

"That's absolutely revolting. Are you really telling me I would have remained as I was if she had never healed? What the bloody fuck kind of madness is this Veela shite?"

"Draco, I don't make the rules." Apolline sighed, preparing herself for a veritable Veela storm of rage but it didn't come.

Sure, Draco's eyes were pitch black and his talons were tapping the glass table between them, but he did not roar, rage or smash anything. He growled lightly and then jumped, almost as if he were startled.

"She's wearing it." He sighed. "I need to see her." He strode from the room before Apolline could rise to her feet. She called after him to no avail.

It seemed Apolline Delacour had nothing left to teach him…or so she thought.


	4. Of Moments & Whispers

**AN: Alright, so I've gone over &amp; edited this chapter so many times I can't even see straight anymore. It's as good as it's going to get and if there are errors ugh I just don't care. Ok that's not true, I care, just not today, maybe tomorrow ha.**

**As always, thanks for reading and yes...yes...yes I am aware the whole Veela thing has been done a bajillion times, it doesn't mean I'm not enjoying myself writing it and if you're not enjoying the read then perhaps this isn't the fic for you.**

***kisses***

* * *

Of Moments &amp; Whispers

* * *

Narcissa wasn't quite sure what mayhem she had walked in too, but she was never one to shrink from a heated dispute. From her quick deductions, it seemed the tall blond wizard was furious with the irate brunette witch who was beating him about the head. She waved toward Pansy with a tight smile and took it upon herself to separate the pair before they were reduced to dueling.

Narcissa didn't draw her wand or utter a single word. Instead, she marched toward the impressively tall wizard and grasped him by his ear, and dragged him down to her level.

"Ridiculous." She hissed into his ear. He stopped struggling, his face blushing upon discovering the Malfoy matriarch glowering at him.

"She started it." He huffed, attempting to retain the smallest modicum of his dignity.

"You bastard!" Hermione lunged for him only to be restrained by a disheveled Pansy, which amused Narcissa to no end. She'd never seen the pureblood witch with a single hair out of place. "I hate him. Get him out of my building!"

"Oh _now_ it's your building, before you didn't want a bloody thing to do with now did you?!" Cormac McLaggen shouted at Hermione forgetting for a moment his ear was still firmly grasped between Narcissa's fingertips.

With a sigh and a most uncharacteristic roll of her eyes, Narcissa flicked her wand, sending Hermione and Cormac into the plush chairs near the window. She bound them quickly, clucking her tongue at their immaturity. She ignored the sparkling bracelet decorating Hermione's wrist for the sake of her sanity. She closed her bright eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose imagining the moment she would be forced to inform Lucius.

"Thank Merlin. Those two were going to be the death of me." Pansy growled, angrily shoving her hair behind her ears and brushing the wrinkles from her robes.

Cormac opened his mouth yet Pansy was quick to Silence him in order to avoid hexing the poor boy. She turned to Narcissa with a deep breath yet Narcissa was busy studying the silently fuming Muggle born witch who just so happened to be attempting to remove an offending piece of jewelry.

"It arrived just a bit ago." Pansy whispered as she sidled to Narcissa's side. "Cormac bloody touched it and everything went tits up from there." Narcissa's brow furrowed at the crass language, but still she held her tongue.

"She doesn't know?"

"She thinks she simply has a secret admirer and assumes it's some dodgy old wizard with nothing better to do with his galleons. I didn't know until the delivery. I recognised the owl." Hermione sneered at the pair of witches across the room, lightly stroking the gems decorating her wrist.

It called to her in a way she didn't understand. She felt lighter and happier without reason. She wasn't particularly well versed in gems, however that would quickly change. She was nothing if not thorough. Hermione allowed her eyes to peruse Narcissa, her curiosity piqued by her presence. She didn't detest the woman and it was glaringly obvious her blood status was no longer an issue which intrigued her to no end.

"I saw it once, in a box. He said I mustn't touch it ever. I know it's important but…I refuse to be the witch to inform Hermione Granger she's bound to…well you know." Pansy refrained from saying his name knowing Hermione was paying keen attention.

"He altered it. I can see that from here. He didn't remove her choices; he simply enhanced their emotional connection. Merlin knows that witch needs to…"

"Remove the incredibly large wand from her arse, yes Narcissa we're all aware of that little fact." Pansy stuck her tongue out at Hermione, eliciting a loud harrumph from the angry witch.

Narcissa's heeled boots clipped across the marble floor and within seconds she was standing directly in front of the offending pair. Cormac was wrestling with his magical bindings, his face reddened with anger as he shouted in his halo of silence. Hermione was a bit more subdued though the rage was shining brightly in her dark brown eyes. Narcissa knew his son had his work cut out for him and it amused her greatly.

"Now then, whatever is the problem here? I've come to offer my services considering Merlin knows you need the help and for what? To see the Founder brawling with a conceited wizard as if she were nothing more than a common Muggle? It is unbecoming to beat anyone about the head no matter how much they may deserve it." Narcissa arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in Cormac's direction and he had enough sense to lower his head.

"He made an untoward suggestion which was downright offensive, not to mention disgusting. He deserves much more than a simple smack about the head." Hermione crossed her arms, acting much like a petulant child rather than an accomplished witch.

Narcissa was vaguely reminded of her own son's immaturity; deciding then they were well suited to each other. Though, if she had to hazard a guess, she believed they'd never accomplish anything between the stubbornness and the pouting. Narcissa smirked lightly and settled onto the arm of Hermione's chair.

"My dear, he is a McLaggen, his entire family line is filled with nothing more than pompous wizards seeking to rise through the ranks of society. I'm going to assume he suggested a less than proper liaison for the betterment of his name and to award your charity with much needed press?" Cormac blushed furiously while squirming in his seat. "Now I believe we're all in dire need of a nice cup of tea. I'll see to that while you collect yourselves. Perhaps, Ms Granger it would be in your best interest to allow me to…handle Mr. McLaggen. It seems he requires quite a few etiquette lessons in order to properly work under the Founder of what will be a prestigious charity. I would be most helpful in that regard." Narcissa subtly winked and patted Hermione's hand and without giving her chance to respond, quickly made her way through the atrium toward a door Hermione hadn't noticed before.

"Aunt Cissy is making you bloody tea. How on earth did you manage that?" Pansy practically hissed as she waved her wand to release Hermione from the binding spell.

Hermione stroked her bracelet once more, completely intrigued by the sparkling gemstones while she wondered how on earth she would part with such a generous gift. It wasn't in her nature to accept such things, but she could feel herself growing more attached to it with each moment that passed. She was convinced it held some sort of magic she didn't understand…yet.

"Pans, you're overreacting. Mrs. Malfoy was simply helping me with my small problem." Hermione jerked her thumb toward the still bound red-faced wizard with furrowed brows and downturned lips.

"Mrs. Malfoy makes me sound quite elderly now doesn't it? Please, you must call me Narcissa as I see us becoming well acquainted." Hermione leaned forward slightly and using her fingertips closed Pansy Parkinson's gaping mouth. "Come along then, the tea shan't wait and cold tea is absolutely undesirable. Now, Mr. McLaggen, are you going to behave yourself?" With a pointed glare, Narcissa placed the tea service on a table she conjured waiting for his reply.

"Of course Narcissa, I shall be a perfect gentleman." Cormac's dazzling smile failed to dazzle any of the present witches.

"You may call me Mrs. Malfoy young man." She flicked her wand and an obviously put out Cormac joined the witches for tea.

By the time they were finished speaking, Hermione's head was spinning with new information. It seemed Narcissa Malfoy was well aware of Hermione's more than generous contributor, yet refused to divulge any information. She was more than willing to offer her services in terms of fundraisers and other charity events which seemed to focus around balls for all occasions. Hermione wasn't especially fond of the idea, but she was quite fond contributions and children with full stomachs. She nodded when it was appropriate while sipping her lukewarm tea as Pansy's quill scratched across parchment. Hermione hoped she was taking copious notes since Merlin knows she was never going to be able to retain all of this new information.

She was lost in her own thoughts, absently studying the large brown stone in the center of the bracelet when Narcissa drew her from her daydreams. She stared at the older witch with wide eyes, mentally flipping through the numerous snippets she heard while attempting to formulate a coherent response.

"It seems Ms Granger is a bit lost in her thoughts." Narcissa smirked knowing it was the mention of her son's name which had drawn the witch from her subconscious.

"I-I apologise Mrs. er uhm Narcissa. I'm just a bit distracted by these exorbitant gifts. I don't know what to make of them really." Hermione sighed and the older witch could sense her forlornness.

She couldn't help but to glance at the tastefully decorated building. Narcissa had to admit her son had truly outdone himself. It was impeccable, which impressed her to no end. He had chosen neutral colours which melded together to form a calming sort of environment. She noticed of course, he had decorated Hermione's private office in Slytherin shades, knowing he would be unable to resist, to stake his claim upon her in some way, shape or form. Personally Narcissa believed the jewelry, the building and even the monetary contributions were plenty, but it seemed he disagreed and she was not one to deny him, not now.

Hermione had an undeniable urge to leave. She wished nothing more than to rush through the doors and run into the rain. It didn't make a bit of sense, even she was aware of it, but it didn't change the way she felt. She felt flushed and felt slightly feverish to be honest and part of her wondered if it was obvious to her companions. She dabbed at her forehead with a paisley scarf she pulled from her pocket, willing her breaths to slow. Hermione leapt to her feet in the midst of one of Pansy's monologues and knocked her tea cup to the floor.

"I'm…I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me but…I've, I've got to go. I've got to get out here. Is it warm in here or is it just me? I can't…" Hermione gripped the wisps of hair near her temples and took a deep breath.

Pansy slowly made her way to Hermione's side, glancing upon the composed Narcissa with confusion. She placed her arm on Hermione's back only for Hermione to wrench away with a strangled groan. Narcissa continued to sit, watching it all unfold before her with a mysterious sort of smile.

"It's quite alright my dear. If you must leave, then do so. Only, a small favour perhaps?" Hermione was busy gathering her belongings, shoving Pansy's notes into her messenger bag as the thunder boomed just outside the picture windows.

"I-I suppose it would only be fair…considering your help." Hermione's voice shook slightly, but she ignored such things, her mind intent upon vacating the suffocating premises.

"I imagine one day in the near future, such events will occur which will make it necessary for you to remember these words. Please, for your sake and the sake of others…keep an open mind. Do not close yourself off to the possibilities regardless of any childhood prejudices." Narcissa took a small sip from her tea cup as she stared into the murky brown eyes.

"I-I don't understand." Hermione whispered, already taking small steps toward the double doors.

"You will Ms Granger, you will."

* * *

Her shoe had gotten lodged in one of the uneven paving stones near the Leaky Cauldron. Her bag had split down the seam, spilling books and parchment around her, and to make matters worse it had begun to rain.

"Looks like someone angered the gods." Hermione was gathering as many pieces of parchment as she was able, hoping they weren't ruined. She didn't pay a bit of mind to the soft chuckling voice, even as she saw the long pale fingers thrusting damp books in her direction.

Hermione magicked her bag into one piece and shoved the books inside while shaking her head. She knew some of them were completely ruined and it would take her at least half a day to recreate them. Her shoe was still firmly lodged in the cobblestone, her hair was dripping in her face and she was seconds away from screaming when he took her bag.

He placed it on the ground next to his feet while she shoved sopping hair off her face and gasped. Hermione couldn't help but shiver when wet cool hands grasped her calf while dislodging her shoe. She was so surprised by the contact she fell backward, landing in a small puddle.

She knew she looked a fright, but it didn't seem to bother him. He smiled slightly while repairing her broken heel and gently slid the shoe back onto her foot.

"Th-thanks, Malfoy." Hermione's teeth chattered as the rain seeped through her tweed suit jacket while she tried to heave to her feet.

He remained silent, simply slipping his hands under her arms and placing her gently on her feet. He barely managed to resist the urge to finger the sparkling jewelry decorating her wrist, but he wasn't about to give himself away, not yet.

"Come along then Granger. Can't have you standing here like a loon in this weather." Draco Malfoy snatched her bag from the ground and with a gentle hand laid upon her back, led her inside the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of his actions. She allowed herself to be directed toward the back of the pub and vaguely heard him speak with Tom. Draco opened a small door beside the Floo which she had never seen before and he immediately stoked the fire.

"Sit down; you'll catch your death." Hermione nodded, still wary and unsure, but what could it hurt to sit in front a warm fire.

She barely blinked when he removed her jacket, chastising her for not wearing robes and offered her a cup of tea. She barely remembered drinking it, but remembered the warming sensation.

Draco observed her sipping the tea and the way her damn blouse clung to her curves. It was a pretty shade of pink and it struck him as odd to think of such a thing, even as her hair dripped. He sighed and left the room, returning a moment later with a few towels.

Tentatively he sat beside her and when she didn't acknowledge his presence he began drying her hair. Hermione frowned as she felt him rubbing the tendrils between the plush cotton, wondering how he knew she never used magic on her hair.

"How did you…"

"Blaise." He interrupted. It was true to a certain extent. Blaise had regaled him in stories of Hermione and their short courtship. Blaise had found it quite amusing when he'd used magic to dry Hermione's hair after an afternoon of swimming and she had shouted at him.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Hermione finally asked, filling in the silence. Narcissa's words echoed in her head and she couldn't help but wonder if this moment was what she had been referring to.

Draco didn't answer her immediately. He was still encompassed in awe that she was allowing him such liberties. He finger combed her hair backward, toying with the damp curls as they coiled around his fingers. He knew he was pushing the limits of his constraints, yet he felt as if he'd waited a lifetime to be near her.

"Potter and I aren't what anyone would consider friendly terms, but we haven't resorted to hexes. I've spent the last few months abroad, but before that I'd spent a decent amount of time aiding the Ministry. I don't…I don't wish to be my father and I thought the best way to prove that would be to give the Aurors whatever information they wished as far as Former Death Eaters still loyal to their ridiculous cause. I've been attempting to mend relations. You'd be surprised that even the Weasel is civil, though I do believe it's under duress. The next logical step of course…is you." Draco dragged the cloth down her arms, scrubbing away the gooseflesh.

"Me, but I would have thought you'd consider me beneath you? I mean, you were never one to pull punches and on more than one occasion you called me a Mud..." Draco covered her lips with his finger, tamping down the shiver of contact.

"Shh, don't say it, please. I haven't said nor thought such a thing in years. I don't want you or anyone else to think of me as the child I was. I'm not proud of it, but I was then. I'm not going to tell you I didn't believe in the madness because I don't wish to lie. I did, but at the same time, I was young and impressionable and it was easier to go along with my father than fight against him. I should have, I know that now, but I didn't. I thought if I made him happy, he'd love me. I know how incredibly pathetic that sounds, but that was all I wanted then."

"It's different now?" Hermione shivered again and before she could raise her wand for a simple Warming Charm, Draco had covered her in his fur lined cloak.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Hermione kicked off her shoes and drew her feet under the cloak, snuggling into its warmth.

"Try me. I'm much more open minded than Harry or Ron." Draco studied her profile carefully, not wishing her to see the depth of his emotions.

"I know and I will, someday." The small room seemed unbearably stifling and he knew it was due to the close proximity to her, yet he was unwilling to remove himself.

Hermione was no longer wary of him, he seemed sincere and she wasn't willing to unjustly judge him on childhood antics. While her blouse was still a bit damp, she was significantly warmer and her eyes had begun to droop. Hermione yawned, covering her mouth quickly as the blush spread across her cheeks.

"I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Granger, it's obvious you're quite exhausted. There's no shame in closing your eyes for a moment. You've been working yourself too hard, though that doesn't surprise me in the least. You always were a bit of an overachiever." Hermione searched the grey eyes for the slightest speck of malice, yet found none.

"It's still a bit strange for me. I never imagined sitting in front of a fire with Draco Malfoy."

"Is it terrible then?" He closed his eyes, half expecting a barrage of insults and to see her bouncing curls retreat in a fit of anger. Instead, her hand covered his and he barely refrained from leaping from his skin.

"No. I defended you, did you know that? Of course not, I didn't really expect you too. Sixth year, Harry and Ron were intent on placing the blame on you for every little speck of trouble. They were determined you were embracing evil and hatching some devious plan. I defended you. I told them how ridiculous they were being and the world most definitely did not revolve around Draco Malfoy. They wouldn't hear of it, stubborn arses they were, still are quite honestly. I was so disappointed when they were right." Hermione sighed, watching the reds, oranges and yellows battle together in the fireplace.

"Why," Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably, "why did you tell me that?" He turned his hand until they were palm to palm, yet he did not interlace their fingers. He didn't want her to leave. He didn't want her to grow angry with him over his advances so he remained still.

"Perhaps we never hated each other, not really. Perhaps we were both simply playing our parts, that's all." Hermione's head fell back, her eyes closed and a few moments later her breaths were slow and steady.

It amazed him that she could say something so incredibly profound and then close her eyes and fall asleep. Draco was afraid to move and yet he wished nothing more than to be closer to her. She whimpered when the thunder crashed above them, her forehead creasing with anxiety. Carefully he shifted closer to her, his arm along the back of the sofa and she sighed into his warmth. Hermione fell into his side with sighs and mumblings and he couldn't help but draw her closer.

She was half on his lap before Draco was satisfied with his arms tightly around her. He studied the smattering of freckles across her nose, so light they would have been missed with a less discerning eye. He brushed his thumb across her plump pink lips as they barely parted in her slumber.

Her damp skirt was seeping into his slacks and without a second thought he removed it with a flick of his wand and set it to dry before the fire. Her blouse quickly followed, though he kept her covered with his cloak. If she awoke to discover her state of undress, he knew there would be hell to pay, but he couldn't have her catching ill.

Draco's breath expelled in short bursts when his cloak slipped from her shoulder, exposing creamy unblemished skin. He only meant to wrap it around her, yet his fingertips grazed the pale skin and he was lost. He tried to extricate himself from the limbs languidly tossed across his lap, but he couldn't.

He picked up his discarded wand and widened the sofa slightly. It didn't take him but a moment to recline upon his side, dragging Hermione down with him until he was draped around her. Draco knew he was living dangerously. He knew he was pushing himself further than he'd ever pushed himself before, but he couldn't tear himself away.

He slipped his arm beneath Hermione's head, burying his nose in her curls, the faint scent of lavender and the remnants of spring rain clinging to him. Hermione was vaguely aware of a warm body against hers and slowly opened her eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Her voice with husky with sleep, yet she didn't move away from him, keeping the small flame of hope alive.

"I'm holding you Granger. You're absolutely freezing and there's a storm raging. I couldn't very well leave you to your own devices." Hermione kept her gaze steady on the base of his throat, her heart pounding.

"Do you do this for all your friends then?" She was incredibly aware of the fact she was in her underclothes, wrapped not only in Draco Malfoy's cloak but also his arms.

She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit she'd always had a bit of attraction to the Slytherin. She never imagined being in such a situation with him, but it wasn't distasteful. It was exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. She didn't truly understand the reasoning behind his actions, but she was afraid to question his motives.

"Oh Granger, I don't wish to be friends." Hermione swallowed nervously upon the feel of cool lips brushing against her forehead in a whisper.

Draco's forefinger tapped her chin lightly until their eyes met. He clutched her to him, biting back a groan of want as her body fit against his.

"Y-you don't?" If he hadn't been staring at her lips, he would have missed the question altogether. Hermione could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart beneath her fingertips and for some strange reason his nervousness eased hers.

"Not at all, my sweet. I wish to be much…much more than that." Hermione blinked; sure her senses were playing tricks on her. Draco Malfoy didn't speak of sentiments, especially not to someone like her. At least those were the thoughts swirling in her weary mind the moment before he kissed her.

Draco was no longer sure where he ended and she began, but the throbbing ache in his heart ebbed as he tasted her. He refused to press her, keeping the raging fire contained. He simply pressed his lips to hers, his free hand holding her head in place before pulling back.

He slipped his hand beneath the cloak, his fingertips gently caressing her bare shoulder, down the length of her arm until it settled on her warm waist. Draco was slightly appeased to feel her so close to him, to have her allowing him such liberties, but he knew it wouldn't last long. He wasn't ready to explain his unique heritage to her, not yet. He needed more time. He wanted her to know him as he was, not as he had been. He wanted to draw her in slowly, so when he was finally able to tell her the truth, it would be too late. She wouldn't be able to reject him if she felt half as strongly as he did.

"Malfoy, you've got to admit, you've got a bit of a reputation. I'm…I'm not interested in being a notch on your bedpost…" Hermione rolled onto her back, expecting him to remove his hand, yet it remained, instead sliding along her stomach.

"Granger you wound me." Draco adjusted himself until they were at eye level, turning her onto her side once more. "I haven't been with a woman since before the war. Of course if you were ever to tell anyone, I'd deny it." He curled around her, his hand stroking her back until she relaxed.

"What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?" Draco kissed her again, quickly, sweetly before Hermione could talk herself out of the situation and bolt from Tom's backroom.

"Just let go, my sweet." He tugged on her bottom lip lightly with his teeth until she gasped. His tongue flicked forward, tasting the corner of her lip before gently probing her mouth.

His hips inadvertently flexed into her, causing Hermione to tear her lips from his. She sat up quickly, shrugging the cloak from her shoulders as she planted her bare feet on the rough wooden planks. Draco remained in his prone position, studying the curves of her back. His palm ran the length of her spine while she attempted to collect herself.

"What do you want from me?" Hermione glanced over her shoulder, noticing the darkened hue of his eyes. She wasn't afraid of him, though she knew Harry and Ron would be livid, due to their own prejudices more than anything.

"Forever." Draco sat up behind her and kissed her shoulder blade to the back of her neck.

"Well, that's ridiculous isn't it? We've only just…reconnected. You can't make such statements when you barely know me." Draco smirked against her skin, pushing her hair over her other shoulder. Her words belied her actions for she leaned into his caresses, sighed as his lips danced across her skin.

"I know you better than you think." Hermione's head lulled to the side when Draco slid the strap of her bra down her shoulder. He was careful to never allow his teeth to come in contact with her skin. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist marking her and as much as he wanted her he couldn't imagine forcing her into the situation.

"I-I should go." Hermione sagged against his chest, her thighs pressing tightly together in order to quell the newfound ache between them.

"Do you really want too?" Draco's lips ghosted the shell of her ear in his whisper, his chest rumbling with her shiver.

"No." Hermione sighed, a strange sound of discontent escaping her lips when he withdrew.

Draco reclined upon the sofa and patted the space in front of him. Hermione dropped her head to her chest in indecision. She didn't want to leave, but she knew it was dangerous for her to stay. She didn't trust herself with him.

"Come here, Granger." Hermione didn't know what possessed her to listen to his honeyed voice, but she did.

While her back was turned, Draco had unbuttoned his royal blue dress shirt. The skin to skin contact was almost too much for both of them. Hermione's warm palm touched his heart, her thumb stroking the pale skin. She was astonished by how completely natural it felt to lie with Draco Malfoy.

"I…I'm not, I'm not having…I mean…" Hermione floundered, ill at ease with what she wished to say.

"I know." Draco stretched his arm across her body in order to retrieve the cloak. His eyes lingered on her pink lacy bra and her light blue knickers. He smothered a smile, satisfied with the knowledge that not every woman matched her entire ensemble.

The clap of thunder startled Hermione and she rolled into him, her limbs trembling.

"Is the courageous Gryffinor afraid of thunderstorms?" Draco was pleasantly surprised to discover how satisfied he was, simply by holding her in his arms.

He could barely believe he'd valiantly fought against Apolline. He wished he hadn't wasted so much time struggling against his path.

"I love the rain, but there's something about the booming thunder I've always found a bit intimidating. I know it's silly. Harry and Ron always mocked me for it, but I can't help it." Draco propped himself up on his elbow, his head in his hand while pressing the small of her back into him.

"It's not silly at all. Sometimes the fears of our youth follow us into adulthood. There's nothing wrong with that. We all have fears, whether we admit them or not." Draco kissed her cheek as another roll of thunder crashed above them in the moments before their eyes closed and they fell into a restless slumber.

_Hermione's leg slipped between his and without thinking, he reached down between them and grasped her thigh. He had only intended on keeping her from damaging his assets, but once he began to touch her, he couldn't nor did he want to stop. Draco started slow, peppering her face in small kisses down to her neck, tugging her earlobe. Her soft sighs encouraged him as his palm brushed the back of her knee to the exposed curve of her bum._

_His tongue slipped between her teeth, fingertips beneath the band of her bra until it fell open. Draco peeled the strap from her shoulder while their heavy breaths filled the small room. He rolled onto his back, yanking her on top of him and tossed her bra onto the floor. His darkened eyes remained locked on hers, the flush bright on her cheeks. Hermione pushed against his chest, sitting up while realising she straddled his lap and his eyes dropped to her voluptuous breasts._

_Draco hefted their weight in his palms, his thumbs lightly brushing the peaks until they hardened. Hermione's mind and body were battling against each other in a fervor, but the moment his mouth covered her aching peak, her body won the war. She moaned, louder than she intended, arching into his practiced touch, which only furthered his ministrations._

_Draco was treading water. He'd never expected Hermione to welcome his advances nor her eager responses. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop when the moment came. He didn't want to force her, but as her fingers tightly gripped his blonde strands, he only wished to lose himself in her. He wanted to feel her convulsing around him while he was buried within. Draco groaned against her throat, wrapping his arms around her waist._

"_Granger." Draco wrestled her still, the friction of her sensuous rocking making a difficult situation nearly impossible. "We've got to stop."_

"_You're right. I know you're right…it's just…" Hermione's arms were locked around his neck, her breasts almost flat against his chest. She flexed her pelvis against the bulge in his pants and shuddered. "It's that…its right there and I can't…" He understood the desperation as he fingered the edge of her knickers._

_Draco fell onto his back, his hands slipping beneath the light blue lace of her knickers and Hermione whimpered. He knew what she wanted, exactly what she needed and he eased her knickers down supple thighs, until she was bare. _

"_You are exquisite." Draco wiggled his way out of his slacks and dropped them to the floor, careful to keep his boxers firmly in place. _

_The fear in Hermione's eyes was palpable as he slowly climbed on top of her. Her hands had instinctively covered her breasts from his smoldering eyes. He peeled them from her, kissing each wrist before trapping them over her head. Her knees bent, providing him access to that which he sought and he pushed himself against the apex of her thighs. Draco tortured himself while aiding in her pleasure._

"_Gods, just do it Malfoy." Hermione's back cleared the sofa in her need to feel him. Draco ground into her, refusing to remove the last barrier between them._

"_Granger, the first time I take you, it will not be in Tom's backroom." Draco flopped beside her, ignoring her whimpers of discontent. _

_His hand snaked between her legs to tease her slick folds and she bucked into his hand. He could smell her innocence as much as he could sense it and he felt empowered knowing he was the only man to bring her such pleasure. Her lips found his and he was pleasantly surprised by her voracious nature. Hermione's fingernails dug into his shoulders, her knees shaking, her whimpers and gasps being swallowed by his lips as she came undone. _

_Draco swirled his fingertips, elongating her pleasure until he slipped a solitary finger within her. He expected the heat, slick with arousal yet her keening while Hermione reached yet another crescendo was addictive. _

Draco's eyes snapped open, his breath expelling in forceful little gasps. He chanced a glance at the witch still safely in his arms and sighed. He decided he would happily spend the rest of his life in moments such as these, even if it was only a dream.


	5. Of Tenderness & Tears

**AN: This isn't a particularly long chapter however it wouldn't have worked to continue it so tada.  
As for editing well, I do the best I can.  
Thanx for reading and as always *kisses***

* * *

Of Tenderness &amp; Tears

* * *

Hermione Granger blew tufts of golden curls from her face as her heels clipped along the cobblestone streets. She was irritated, which seemed to be constant state of mind these days. It had been at least three months since she'd technically seen him. She didn't understand why he'd had to leave so quickly and for the first few weeks had felt guilty for sharing such an intimate moment with him. They had corresponded of course and she was strangely thankful for that much. On the other hand she was remiss to admit the suggestive nature of his letters, even to Pansy.

"So what if I'm friendly terms with Draco Malfoy? What does it matter to them? It's not as if I'm asking them to be friends with him. It's not as if I've heard a bloody word from him in days upon days." She mumbled to herself, slinging her laden messenger bag onto her shoulder, grunting at its weight.

She didn't know why they were making such a fuss. They were constantly making mountains out of molehills. Casually mention the fact you had tea with Draco Malfoy and off they went. Comment on anonymous donations and they were prepared to go to war.

It wasn't as if she were accepting bribes or anything of that nature. They were gifts, anonymous gifts, but gifts nonetheless. The war was over and the sooner her friends came to terms with such things the better off they would be.

She understood Harry's need to be suspicious at every turn. She didn't agree with it necessarily, but she supposed such things were bound to become habit after confronting the darkest wizard of all time. She supposed his Auror training lent him in that direction as well. She huffed, clutching her briefcase in her clammy fist and marched down the walk toward the Ministry, while recalling her abysmal lunch hour.

* * *

_"You should let me investigate, Hermione. I have a few connections. I might be able to discover the source of these anonymous gifts." Harry Potter's green eyed blazed at the idea of being hot on the trail of a new mystery, hopefully fraught with danger._

_"Harry, you're being ridiculous. What does it matter if I've received a large donation to the Foundation? It's for the betterment of witches and wizards everywhere. Perhaps there's some lonely, obscenely wealthy witch or wizard who wishes to atone for their actions to soothe the ache in their soul. You've never thought of that have you? Even the Malfoys have donated to the Foundation and I don't see you rushing about, demanding explanations which aren't yours to demand, for the sake of propriety." Hermione cocked an eyebrow at her oldest friend, daring him to refute her words of infinite wisdom._

_"The Malfoys were cleared by the Ministry! You were there! Come to think of it though, that git of a son of theirs hasn't been seen in months. Maybe..."_

_"You're being ridiculous again. Just because you haven't managed to spot him doesn't mean he isn't about. It's not as if you or Ron would notice anything at all." Hermione clenched her hands into fists simply to keep from hexing them._

_"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?" Ron shoved a chicken leg into his mouth after speaking for which she was eternally grateful._

_She adored her boys dearly, but their manners left something to be desired. Hastily she pushed aside her barely touched salad and sighed. She had started the Foundation with good intentions. She had always believed education had been severely lacking for witches and wizards before they attended Hogwarts and it was the Foundation's main goal to provide a limited magical education for those in need. If it hadn't been for her superior intellect and work ethic, she doubted she would have fared as easily as she did in the magical world._

_Pureblood society of course had completely different views and the Foundation almost went bankrupt before it even started. If it weren't for that very first anonymous donation of an exorbitant number of galleons, it never would have survived its first year. Hermione would be lying, to herself and everyone else if she said she wasn't curious about her mysterious benefactor, but she had decided it was in her best interest not to pry. She had a sneaking suspicion Malfoy had something to do with it all, but that very idea caused a fluttering in her chest and caused emotions to surge to the surface. Hermione wasn't quite ready to deal with that particular debacle._

_The Ministry had promised a stipend toward her efforts if she remained on top for a period of six months and with help, she had. She had grand plans to expand her efforts, perhaps even procure a building for misplaced witches and wizards. There had been so many abandoned and orphaned children after the war it was a travesty._

_"Mione, when is your meeting?" Ron pointed at her with the bone of his chicken leg, quite pleased with himself for remembering something she had seemingly forgotten._

_"Bollocks, I'm going to be late. Harry, walk with me yeah? Ron, I suppose I'll see you and Pansy later? Oh don't look at me like that. How long did you think you could hide it from me? I don't know why you'd think I care really." She bent to kiss Ron's cheek, instead ruffling his hair as the smear of grease on his face was less than appealing._

_"I thought...well, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable, considering things with..." Ron swallowed with difficulty, for once wishing he had taken smaller bites._

_"I've only ever wanted you to be happy Ronald. I've told you that. You weren't happy with me anymore than I was with you. If it truly bothered me, do you really think I'd have lunch with you weekly? I confronted Pansy about it ages ago." Ron's forehead wrinkled, his eyes narrowing a bit as he contemplated her words before shrugging. "Honestly, it's as if you don't know me at all."_

_"What about you then, Mione? Are you happy? I mean, I know things didn't work out with us, thank Merlin, but you've not really dated anyone since..."_

_"I don't wish to speak of it. I'm already late. See you soon!" Hermione waved over her shoulder without waiting for Harry. He was an adult; he could make his own way back to the Ministry._

* * *

Hermione had convinced herself she was simply particular when it came to the wizards she dated. Ginny claimed she was ridiculously picky, yet Hermione refused to even entertain that notion. The last relationship, if you could even call it that, was the one that hit her the hardest. She wasn't in love with him by any means, but they got along well, at least she had believed so, until the day he had surreptitiously ended their three-month liaison without another thought.

Moonlight walks through the public park. Dinners by firelight. Picnics in the middle of the Foundation atrium. Chaste kisses and handholding.

It wasn't much she realised and she'd never felt that spark she'd always expected. She naturally assumed she simply wasn't the sort of witch to be swept away in the frivolity of such intangible emotions as 'love'. She wasn't completely convinced such romantic notions even existed. She of course believed in familial love and even the love of friendships, but as far as the all encompassing, consuming, whirlwind of breathless emotions, no, Hermione Granger had convinced herself such things were the makings of fairytales and had no place in the well oiled machine of life.

It didn't matter, not really. He was happily dating Ginny and she gave them her blessing. It was the least she could do. It was worth it to see Ginny smile again, though she felt a pang of longing being surrounded by happy couples allowing themselves to be deluded by irrationality.

Draco Malfoy had changed all of that and still she refused to admit it. He had swooped in casually, upended her entire world and disappeared. It was easier to allow her friends to believe it was someone, anyone other than Malfoy. As time went by, it was easier to convince herself of the same.

She stopped short in front of the phone box, taking a moment to allow the memories to wash over her.

* * *

_Hermione couldn't believe she'd allowed Ginny to convince her, this outfit was perfectly acceptable for a business meeting._

_"There's absolutely nothing wrong with appealing to a man's baser instincts. Don't frown like that, it makes you look old. I'm talking about sex appeal Hermione. You've got it in droves but you hide it behind those awful tweed suits and robes even my mum would toss into the bin." Ginny flipped through Hermione's wardrobe, rejecting yet another perfectly fine ensemble._

_"Ginny! Stop it! These are my clothes. This is my life. Why can't you..." Ginny ignored her and set yet another set of robes on fire with an easy flick of her wand._

_"Embrace your femininity for Godric's sake!" Ginny tossed a gray high-waist pencil skirt onto Hermione's bed, finally satisfied with her selection. A sleeveless cream blouse with ruffles around the neckline quickly followed._

_"I don't want them to care if I'm female. I want them to care for the sake of the future of wizarding kind." Hermione knew she was speaking to deaf ears. Once Ginny Weasley set her mind to something, there was no turning back._

_"At least you've finally learned to take better care of that mess you call hair." Ginny magicked Hermione into the outfit, without her consent of course and began casting a series of charms to soften Hermione's unruly curls. Ginny manipulated her head, pulling the masses of hair off her face and securing it at the base of her neck with a clasp she'd never seen before._

_"Where did you get that? It's quite lovely." Hermione fingered the perfectly round pearls decorating the large clasp, inlaid with the smallest of twinkling diamonds._

_"Oh I took it from the beast of an owl while you were showering." Ginny shrugged, concentrating on applying thin layers of makeup Hermione knew she'd never be able to duplicate._

_"Was there a note?"_

_"It's there on the bureau. It simply said 'wear me, please. M. I don't know who M is, but they have impeccable taste. Speaking of impeccable taste, did I tell you? Blaise ran into Draco Malfoy while he was in Diagon Alley. If I wasn't an attached woman, let me tell you. He's still quite delicious."_

_"M is apparently my anonymous benefactor. He's constantly sending strange little gifts. As for Malfoy, I don't care Ginny." Hermione sighed dejectedly. She did care. She cared more than she was willing to admit, but to say such a thing to Ginny was almost as if she were betraying her friendships._

_Blaise Zabini was breathtakingly gorgeous, indescribably intelligent, surprisingly witty and absolutely the wrong wizard for her. She had known it from the start, but she had pushed herself to try. She'd grown fond of him and had valued their time immensely but never saw it leading toward the future he had envisioned. She had still felt a bit blindsided when she had received his owl. Hermione had always believed Blaise had a certain modicum of class; however his callous dismissal had hurt. She had never admitted such feelings to anyone. She barely came to terms with such things herself._

_"You kept this?" Ginny shook a worn piece of parchment under Hermione's nose, an unreadable expression on her face._

_"It's nothing Ginny." Hermione moved as if to retrieve it, yet Ginny held it aloft, waiting for an acceptable explanation._

_"It's not 'nothing' Hermione. He obviously meant more to you than you claimed if you saved it." Ginny glanced down at the missive once more, her blue eyes squinting at the dried round circles decorating the edges. "You've cried on this. What aren't you telling me? Oh gods, Mione, you didn't love him, did you? Tell me you didn't. I'll stop seeing him immediately of course and..."_

_"Ginny stop. Please stop. It's not...that's not it at all." Hermione rose from the vanity without a glance at her reflection crossed the room to her bed and reached underneath. She plucked a decorative box from the floor and placed it on the silver duvet._

_"It's something." Hermione controlled the tremble of her bottom lip, refusing to cry._

_"I keep them all." Hermione whispered, the corner of her lip twitching uncontrollably. She removed the lid slowly and turned the box, dumping a dozen if there was one, missives onto her bed._

_She spread them with her palm, watching Ginny's reaction. Ginny for her part was hesitant to sift through the small glimpses into Hermione's private pain, yet she couldn't stop herself. She picked up one, then another and another, scanning them quickly._

_"This one's from Viktor Krum, which was ages ago. Why...why do you keep them?"_

_"Why? So I never forget." Hermione spat, the venom dripping from words as she snatched letter after letter. "Too intimidating. Career driven...as if THAT'S a bloody reason. Too smart. Too bossy. Too logical. Emotionally unavailable. Sexually incompatible as if THAT makes a bit of sense considering we had barely snogged, but fine. That's all right. I don't need them. I don't need any of them. I keep them to remind myself of exactly what I'm not missing."_

_"That's not why Hermione. I might not be the brightest witch but even I know that's a blatant lie."_

_"Fine. You want the truth? I keep them to remind myself of all the different yet interesting ways I'll fall short and when I die alone there will be loads of reasons to pick through so my friends won't have to wonder, they'll know. Is that what you want to hear? Is that enough truth for you? Hermione Granger, witch extraordinaire, unloved, unwanted, finally unable to excel in something. I'm leaving. I'm late for lunch."_

_Ginny squeezed her arm, yanking her hard with the Weasley glint of determination in her blue eyes. She studied Hermione's face carefully, searching the toffee brown eyes for a flicker of honesty._

"_Who was he?" Ginny loosened her hold slightly upon seeing the distress in her friend's eyes.__ Instead of answering, Hermione furiously wiped her eyes and with a strangled cry, she was gone, her feet carrying her soundlessly down the narrow corridor._

_Of course it didn't take a minute for Ginny to catch her, swinging her around by the arm. Hermione crashed into the wall; still intent upon escaping but Ginny wasn't having it. She squeezed Hermione's wrist in an iron grip and dragged her into the modest kitchen._

"_Stop it, I know you better than that. Sure you've gone off and befriended Pansy and you spend more time with her than you do with any of us anymore, but I'm not Harry and Ron. I'm not going to hold that against you. Something's been going on, I've seen it, you've been different and now you're practically sobbing. I won't tell them or anyone if you don't want me too, but you need to speak to someone." Hermione nodded slowly before sinking into the nearest wooden chair._

"_It was an accident." Hermione whispered, chewing the corner of her lip._

_Ginny eyed her friend warily yet took the seat beside her and waited. She was quite a bit hungry actually but she wasn't about to interrupt Hermione's musings to demand some sort of Muggle fare. She patted Hermione's arm awkwardly not quite sure to how to begin. She wasn't normally the one people turned to for comfort, but there was a first for everything._

"_Tell me then."_

"_It was the day I received the building. Please don't tell the boys, they'll have a bloody conniption fit and I haven't the mind to settle them again. It was a gift, anonymous of course and well, Pansy apparently asked Cormac McLaggen to come by and Narcissa Malfoy stopped in as well. Cormac and I argued which isn't surprising considering he was absolutely revolting. Narcissa made a small comment before I left and I didn't understand it then, but then I ran into him." Hermione sighed and buried her face in her arms as they lay across the rickety table._

"_McLaggen? Narcissa Malfoy? How long have you kept this to yourself?" Ginny was easily distracted by the mention of persons she wasn't particularly fond of which caused Hermione to groan. "I'm sorry, I'm missing the point again. Alright then, whom did you run into?"_

"_Malfoy." Ginny had to strain to hear the single word and truly believed her ears were playing tricks on her. She couldn't imagine a single scenario where Draco Malfoy would elicit such a response from Hermione Granger._

"_I…I don't understand. Was he awful to you? Did he say horrid things? Why else would running into Malfoy….ohh no. Hermione!" Hermione burrowed her head further into her arms, unwilling to gaze upon Weasley fury. "How long?"_

_Hermione lifted her head to see concern rather than anger, which surprised her. She was had been in the process of bracing herself for an onslaught which didn't come. She took a deep breath and sighed._

"_Half a year or so but it's not what you think. It was pouring and my stupid shoe got caught in the cobblestone, my bag split at the seams and well…I don't know. He was just suddenly there and he helped me. I kept waiting for him to say something horrid but he didn't. He took me to the Leaky Cauldron and set me in Tom's backroom. He dried my clothes and my hair for that matter, without magic. Apparently Blaise told him how I…I…"_

"_You despise using magic on your hair, I remember, go on then." Ginny propped her chin on her hand absolutely enthralled with the tale._

"_We talked and it was all quite civil and then, well I was terribly tired and I fell asleep. I woke of course and well he…he kissed me and I didn't stop him. I was completely shocked by it. I never expected and then…" Hermione's dark brown eyes studied the lines in her old table as she weighed her conflicting emotions._

"_Did you shag him and he never owl?"_

"_Ginny! No, I wasn't going to do that though he said some things and no I'm not going to tell you, they're private. I met him for tea a few times and we've been owling but I haven't seen him in…well I don't know how long right now and he hasn't owled me back and I can't help but think…" Hermione covered her mouth, choking back yet another strangled sob._

"_Y-you really like him…" Ginny's cornflower blue eyes dropped to the gem encrusted bracelet dangling on Hermione's wrist. "Did he give you this then? Those stones speak volumes don't they?"_

"_I was planning on researching them quite thoroughly but I've been so busy with the Foundation. The children are meant to arrive within the next month or so and I know Narcissa is more than capable of handling things but I've always had difficulty delegating. Its just part of who I am, so I never got around to it." Hermione huffed with the slightest bit of indignation. _

"_I know. I'm not Ron therefore I'm not judging you. These stones were each picked for a specific purpose and hang on, let me revel in this for a moment. It's finally happened. I know something Hermione Granger doesn't. I almost wish Harry and Ron were here to witness my moment." Ginny laughed lightly, choking it back when she spied Hermione's deep frown. "Sorry, you have to forgive me. You're considered the brightest witch of the age and I know something you don't. At least give me a little smile."_

"_Go on then, show off. Tell me what the stones mean." Hermione grumbled and Ginny knew it secretly irked her._

"_You know, I don't think I will. I will say that whomsoever gave it to you, loves you. Those stones all represent the different forms of love, except for that large muddied stone there."_

"_It's not muddied! It's a lovely shade of green with bits of reddish brown threading through it and…"_

"_Well, you've certainly spent enough time studying it now haven't you?" Ginny interrupted with a half smile, knowing exactly how Hermione's mind had always worked._

_She wished nothing more than to graze her fingers against the smooth stones, but she could feel the magic humming through it and thought better of it. _

"_The agate on the other side has nothing to do with love…"_

"_No of course not, agate is for mental health. I suppose you've been feeling much better lately, which now that I think of it you haven't been drowning your sorrows at that Muggle pub. It's the bloodstone I find the most curious of the lot. When you discover who gave it to you, will you tell me?"_

"_Tell me what the bloodstone is for first." Hermione stroked the stone and a sense of calm overcame her in a slow yet satisfying wave._

"_I don't understand why it would be there, but it's for fertility. Combine that with the healing properties of the agate and well I suppose it could come in handy for other witches, but…what are you not telling me?" Ginny stopped the moment the colour fled from Hermione's cheeks and knew she had stumbled across something important._

"_I have to go. I'll see you later after my appointment at the Ministry. Please, keep this to yourself." Hermione leapt from the table, hugged Ginny hard and Disapparated on the spot._

* * *

The thoughts were flying through Hermione Granger's overactive mind while her shoes clipped along the deserted street. Quite frankly she expected it to be bustling with Muggles and awkward wizards but she enjoyed the solitude. Of course it gave her more time with her innermost thoughts and that could be dangerous.

While she wasn't positive the gifts had come from Malfoy, she was highly suspicious. When they had met for tea a few months back, she caught a pleased smile before he quickly hid it when he spied the bracelet on her wrist. Draco Malfoy had a tendency to ask her numerous questions about her Foundation and even enquired as to how his mother was faring in her duties.

He hadn't kissed her again and Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about it. Part of her wanted to feel the way she did that night and the logical side of her scoffed constantly whispering how ridiculous it was to wish such things from him. He made her feel, which was extraordinary in and of itself. She desperately tried not to read too much into it, but when he had failed to return her last owl it had hurt her. It was then she realised she had missed him. No matter how hard she had tried to convince herself otherwise, she cared about him.

She couldn't imagine speaking to Harry and Ron of such things. Though Harry was more willing to listen and had become much more accepting, Hermione still believed he harbored animosity toward their childhood foe. Ron, on the other hand, well she knew there wasn't a point in even attempting to discuss her newfound feelings. He would rant and rave and probably end the conversation with simply railing about Death Eaters.

Hermione sighed, a forlorn sort of sigh and pushed the thoughts from her head. She didn't have time to dwell upon things that would never be able to come to fruition. She had an important meeting at the Ministry. This was the chance she had been waiting for. Her Foundation for Wayward Witches and Wizards had floundered along until her anonymous donor, yet the Ministry had promised her a stipend if she laid out her financials and long term plans. Hermione knew with the backing of the Ministry the donations and perhaps even volunteers would flock to her and it was exactly what she needed.

She had met with a few of the misplaced orphans and had quickly grown attached to them. Hermione knew she was dancing on the edge of a precarious situation, but the children plucked at her heartstrings in such a way she couldn't deny them basic affection. They flocked to her, smothering her in hugs, regaling her in the stories of their days. She missed them terribly and couldn't wait until she had enough galleons to secure furniture and educational books for their betterment.

They were languishing in what Muggles would call foster homes, but it seemed the younger children did much better together. They were being fed and provided the basic nurturing but she knew they needed much more and quite frankly she couldn't wait to be able to provide it.

With a bounce in her step and her head held high, Hermione pushed further thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her mind and stepped into the police box.


	6. Of Champagne & Pints

**AN: So my updates are taking entirely too long for my liking...I'm working on it. Diligently. I can't say this chapter is 'perfect' but I'm pleased with it to a certain extent and that's definitely something.**

**As always enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Champagne &amp; Pints

* * *

Hermione's red heels clipped along the Ministry tile and she growled with irritation. She didn't know when she had descended into the Ministry, but it didn't matter, not really. She was already late, what were another few moments? Things couldn't possibly get worse.

* * *

"You're not going to bite her are you?" Blaise Zabini cautiously meandered through the atrium of the Ministry toward the lift, keeping his dark eyes watchful for the witch in question.

"No. I'm not going to bite her. I'm not a bloody vampire."

"Fangs are fangs mate." Blaise chuckled, ignoring the huff of irritation coming from the space beside him. "Oi, there she is. She looks pissed. Maybe today isn't the best day for this."

"Follow her." Blaise sighed, but did exactly as he was bid. He kept his eyes on the gentle bounce of her golden curls, correct in his assumptions his best mate would rip him to pieces if his eyes dropped to the swing of her hips.

"Her meeting is in the lower levels. Ginny told me before your knickers get in a twist." Blaise and a Disillusioned Draco stepped into the next available lift and rode silently into the bowels of the Ministry.

"Why did you allow me to interfere?" Draco easily blended into the stone, resisting the urge to burst into every closed door until he found her.

"I suppose for the same reasons she ended things with Weasley. She's nice enough, irritatingly polite, and exceedingly proper as well, and she's amusing to a certain extent. She's a pretty girl, I always thought so, even if she was taboo while we were in school but there wasn't a bit of attraction there. I tried and she tried as well, but honestly? I wanted more than acceptable. I want completely mind blowing. I couldn't see a future with her and I didn't want to waste my time putting forth a concerted effort with someone I couldn't see building a life with." Blaise mumbled into his hand to avoid the questioning glances of passersby and feeling quite ridiculous.

"You said you weren't looking to settle down."

"I fucking lied because I didn't want you to eat me."

"When did you grow up?"

"I suppose right around the same time my best mate discovered he was a harpy."

"Prick."

Blaise stifled his laughter, disguising it behind an exaggerated cough. He wondered how long they were going to have to wait in the bowels of the Ministry before Draco got his Granger fix, but he didn't mind, not really. He'd never seen his mate so completely enamored with anyone and while part of it was due to the Veela magic coursing through Draco's veins, Blaise suspected Draco had always had a soft spot for the Muggle-born witch despite his denials.

He was glad the corridor was empty when he felt the effects of an angry Veela growl. He hadn't realised Draco was directly behind him as a furious Hermione Granger shoved a short, balding wizard from her person. Blaise quickly grasped Draco's arms to keep him from charging forward and wrecking havoc in the middle of the Ministry.

"Get the fuck off me you sanctimonious prick!" She spun on her blazingly red heel and stomped toward the lift. Blaise stifled a snicker when the wizard stumbled and crashed to his knees.

Her ruffled cream blouse was askew, her hair falling in tumbled disarray down her shoulders as she stomped toward them. Blaise retreated, forcing a disgruntled Draco into the cool brick. Hermione tripped, her ankle twisting as the heel of her shoe broke. She wrenched the shoes from her feet and flung them angrily at Blaise. She wrestled with her briefcase, desperately trying to close the clasp. She smashed into Blaise, dropping her briefcase to the floor with a loud bang which reverberated in the emptiness.

"Bloody fantastic. Figures." Hermione's expressive brown eyes flared with an intensity that scared Blaise a bit.

She retrieved her shoes and kicked her briefcase into the lift, throwing her hands into the air in agitation when the parchment inside flew into the air. Blaise carefully stepped into the lift, hoping Draco could maneuver around him without bumping into the irate witch.

"Why yes Ms Granger we're well aware of the progress you've made, however we require a bit more incentive. Disgusting bastard." Hermione grumbled to herself, angrily shoving her curls behind her ear while attempting to gather the papers.

Blaise gathered many of the papers together while waiting for her to acknowledge his existence. He was careful to never touch her, which was more difficult than he thought it would be considering the directional lift consistently tossed her about.

"What are you doing here? I suppose I spoke too loud when I said my day couldn't get any worse." Blaise had a carefully constructed reply, in the event he was asked.

"Ginny wished she could have been here and so I offered my services." Hermione wrenched the papers from between Blaise Zabini's tanned hands with an easy sneer.

"Could have just sent an owl. You're particularly good at that, aren't you?"

The venom surprised Draco. He had seen her angry before, hell it had even been directed at him at times, but this was different. It was in her eyes. They were barely retaining an unimaginable hurt and it pained him. He wished to gather her in his arms and soothe her internal wounds. His subconscious was screaming at him, clawing at him to claim her and he refused. He would have liked to be able to say it was easy but it was excruciating.

"I'm sorry. I handled it badly, I know."

"I don't even care, not really. It's not like you left me broken hearted or anything. I just, well I suppose I expected more of you. My mistake, obviously." The lift opened, denying Blaise the chance to further defend himself, yet offering Draco Malfoy the opportunity to remove the Disillusionment Charm.

Hermione grasped the ring above her head in order to remain on her feet as the lift lurched backward, almost causing her to lose her precarious footing. Instead, she crashed into a hard body. She hadn't recalled anyone stepping behind her, but she supposed she had been distracted by replaying her disastrous meeting. She had always detested how long it took to return to the surface when visiting the Ministry. She groaned as the lift stopped once more, admitting more witches and wizards.

A cool hand covered hers, grasping the ring above her head. Hermione struggled to maintain a proper distance between their bodies. She didn't dare turn her head, terrified upon what she might discover. She could swear the wizard was bloody well sniffing her hair. She sent Blaise a questioningly gaze and he smirked, the bastard.

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger." Draco practically purred upon the sensation of her petite hand beneath his, her hair tickling his nose and her hip intermittently crashing into his thigh as the lift shifted direction.

"Malfoy? Wh-what are you doing here?" Hermione was relieved it was Draco, which made her feel conflicted.

"I'm here for you." Draco smirked yet he hoped she could see the truth in his eyes.

On the one hand she wanted to be terribly angry with him for disappearing on her, but on the other hand she was thrilled to see him. She had been plagued by amorous dreams of him, which squashed the small flicker of anger. Hermione was instantly flooded with a barrage of questions she wished to ask yet she kept her tongue.

His body relaxed and he realised he had been bracing himself for a scathing remark which would force him to retreat. He winked at her when she continuously cast curious glances over her shoulder. Her shiny pink lips dropped open, her hand slipping from the ring in the seconds before the lift made a hard right turn. He didn't stop to think of the distress it would cause upon his person to properly touch her again. It had been too long since he'd last seen her and yet instinctually he caught her about the waist keeping her upright.

"I've got you." He murmured, unable to resist the allure of her exposed neck. His arm tightened protectively, her back caressing his chest through another lurch. He ran the tip of his nose up the smooth exposed skin, exhaling lightly just behind her ear. A rumble of appreciation escaped despite his attempts to contain his animal instincts as he watched her skin pebble as it flushed.

"Th-thanks." It soothed him to know he was affecting her. He wasn't ready to release her. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to release her; however the lift made the decision for him.

"Oi, Granger. Ginny says we're to take you to the pub. She said either you'll wish for a celebratory glass of champagne or to drink yourself piss drunk."

"Piss drunk it is." Blaise coughed, which to Draco sounded suspiciously similar to 'fantastic', but he chose to ignore the blatant sarcasm.

While Blaise tucked Hermione's briefcase under his arm, Draco transformed her damaged red heels into a pair of red trainers, his heart fluttering obnoxiously when she smiled brightly.

"You can let go now, Malfoy." He hadn't noticed the lift stopping nor the exit of the other passengers. He had been lost in her.

"What if I don't want too?" She shivered when his lips barely brushed her ear. She turned slowly, ignoring the widening of the brown eyes holding the lift open. She placed her small palms on Draco Malfoy's chest and studied his chiseled features for a moment.

"Everything's negotiable." Hermione grasped his hands and slowly lowered them to his side before exiting the lift with a flourish of swinging curls.

"Mate, you're in trouble."

* * *

Blaise had little choice in the matter as he weaved his way through the crowded cobblestone streets. Hermione Granger was a woman on a mission. A mission to drown her sorrows in the allure of an array of alcoholic concoctions, but a mission nonetheless. While he didn't have a clear line of sight concerning his best mate, he knew the man wouldn't be far behind. He fervently hoped his hastily scrawled owl to Ginny reached her in time.

It wasn't often he had to concoct elaborate stories these days. He had left behind such notions upon leaving Hogwarts, but sometimes relying on the cunning of a Slytherin was more than necessary for the sake of one's bollocks. His shoulders sagged in relief when Hermione burst through the Leaky Cauldron into the commotion of Muggle London.

Blaise was less than impressed with the pub's exterior and he paused before following her through the heavy doors. The tension of the situation was wearing thin, until he spied Ginny waving maniacally from a curved booth in the corner. Her arm hovered, suddenly still when Draco appeared at his side.

"Mione, you're a bloody mess, what happened?" Ginny embraced her friend, hugging her close, intently studying her eyes.

Hermione, still fuming, shoved Ginny from her person and slid into the booth. She slapped her palms onto the table, glaring and Ginny nodded before rushing off to the bar.

"Ginny speaks fluent Granger. Slide in." Blaise dared to shove Draco a bit, ignoring the clenching of his fists.

Draco delicately settled himself onto the cushioned bench and slid toward Hermione. He left an acceptable space between them, though he ached to feel her against him once more. Hermione's forehead lightly thumped the table and he resisted the urge to place his palm beneath it. Instead, he propped his head on his hand, unable to tear his eyes away. As his hand stretched toward the curls licking her waist, Blaise cleared his throat.

"Don't push your luck. Gin says Potter and his bird are on their way." Blaise Zabini's Adam's apple bobbed as the unearthly snarl and gnashing of teeth presented through Draco's curled lips.

Hermione squinted, her head rising from the table as she glanced between Blaise and Draco. Her lip curled moments before she shoved Draco.

"Shut it. If you can't behave yourselves, shove off."

Thankfully Ginny returned with a tray overflowing with shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Oi, Mione shove on down, would ya? I don't know why you insist on coming here." Ginny pushed Draco insistently until he was pressed against Hermione's thigh, demanding Blaise sit beside her. "Harry and Luna should be here soon. Now, spill it woman."

"Tequila." Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder, brushing the stray strands from her face and snapped her fingers. "What? Don't look at me like that. She asked why I come here and the answer is tequila. It's close to the Ministry which is imperative when dealing those misogynistic Neanderthals and it's a Muggle pub which means tequila. Give it."

Ginny carefully passed a shot glass over Draco's arm, placing the bottle of tequila beside Hermione's hand. Hermione waved away the salt shaker and the offered wedges of lemon. She poured and drank, poured and drank and poured and drank before finally sighing. She slammed the bottle onto the table and groaned.

"Where's your clip?" Ginny sipped a glass of wine deciding while Muggle whisky was palatable she much preferred wine.

Hermione's hand flew to her hair, tangling in her curls as she came up empty.

"Dammit. I must have lost it during my fit at the Ministry. Shame, I quite liked it." Draco said nothing, lightly fingering the pearled clasp in his pocket.

"What happened? Why is Malfoy here? What's going on?" Ginny bounced her foot impatiently, yanking her black skirt down to cover her knees as she slapped away Blaise's insistent fingers.

"Well!" Hermione ripped off her red cardigan and threw it at Ginny. "This outfit was a horrid bloody idea, which is all your fault."

"I disagree heartily Granger, you look...delectable." Draco Malfoy could no longer refuse his need.

Gauging her reaction to his movements, his fingertips brushed the hair off her shoulder as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. His hand dropped from her shoulder, threading through her long hair until finally it came to rest on her hip. He winked, pleasure coursing through his tense limbs upon her blush.

"Apparently the slimy git at the Ministry thought so as well, Malfoy." Hermione poured and drank two more shots of tequila before wiping her mouth with her arm. "Disgusting. I spent weeks on my presentation. I expected a roomful of wizards but no, just a short bald little bastard who decided that even though I'd exceeded their criteria for a stipend, it would be in my best interest to...well to...earn the stipend by allowing him certain liberties. If I hadn't been forced to register my wand prior to my appointment, I would have hexed him into oblivion. I slapped him and..." Hermione swallowed hard, the sensation of Draco's fingers digging into her hip completely distracting her from the disturbing tale.

"Let's just say Granger was a bit rumpled and a tad worse for the wear, but she did manage to handle herself just fine. It shouldn't surprise you in the least Gin." Blaise easily stepped in, trying to distract Draco as his eyes darkened dangerously.

Hermione was suddenly conscious of the hard thigh pressed against hers and the seemingly protective heavy arm around her. She caught Ginny's eye and immediately she climbed over Blaise in a less than ladylike fashion and pulled Hermione from her side of the booth.

Draco felt the pinpricks of fire in the emptiness of his arms. He wondered if perhaps Apolline was correct in her assumptions. Perhaps he wasn't ready to be in such close proximity of her, but he couldn't leave now. He couldn't willingly tear himself away. It wasn't as if she was spurring his attentions and the thought warmed him considerably.

* * *

Ginny dragged Hermione off to the ladies with a determined yet slightly mischievous glint in her eye, which worried Hermione slightly. She knew better than anyone how Ginny could get once her mind was set on something and it seemed her sights were set on Draco and Hermione.

"You still bloody swear you haven't shagged him?" Ginny hissed the moment the door to the loo shut.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot expectantly while Hermione took a deep breath. She knew she'd have to tread carefully where Ginny was concerned. Ginny always had a tendency to blow things out of proportion and it was the last thing Hermione needed.

"I told you, Gin. I haven't seen him in months, besides today of course. When on earth would I have had time to shag him? You know how busy I've been and…" Ginny raised her hand and Hermione faltered. She had never been a fan of confrontation and this time wasn't any different.

"It seems Malfoy is bloody interested in shagging you that's for sure. I can only imagine the havoc that's going to wreck in your overworked life. He's going to hurt you and of course I'll always be there for you and I won't even say I told you so when it happens." Ginny smiled brightly, thinking she was being supportive and even comforting when that was far from the case.

Hermione closed her eyes and willed herself to leave her wand in her pocket. Insensitivity was par for the course when dealing with a Weasley and Ginny really wasn't much different than Ron when it came down to it. She knew Ginny didn't mean any harm but it didn't cause it to sting any less.

"I supported you when you left Harry. I never told one of my oldest and best friends, more like a brother really that you were cheating on him with bloody Cormac McLaggen. I supported you when he dropped you like a bad habit after he visited France and found himself a slinky blonde Beauxbaton's witch. I didn't bat an eye when you began dating Blaise after he dumped me quite horribly really. I mean what kind of man can't even face the woman he's dating and tell her the truth? I didn't let it bother me and I didn't even judge you for it. Do you know how long it took for Harry to forgive me when he discovered the truth? Of course you don't because what did you care really? You had already moved on." Hermione fought to keep her voice cool and controlled, but she was faltering.

"Hermione, I didn't mean anything by it. I mean, it's Malfoy. He's not known for relationships with Muggle-born witches now is he? Now that I think about it, he's not known for relationships with anyone since leaving Hogwarts. I just, I care about you, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I've already been hurt and you bloody well know it so what does it matter if Draco Malfoy is next in line? He's different than he was and I'm curious. You know me better than that anyway. I don't know why you think I'm magically going to strut about shagging whichever wizard happens to show a passing fancy. I've managed this long with resisting, I don't see it changing any time soon."

"You'd be surprised Hermione. Do you really think I imagined losing my virginity at the Burrow? I love my family and my mum, but having her walk in on Harry rutting against me was a little much. Situations can escalate and escalate quickly, especially when there's attraction involved and believe you me, Malfoy is definitely attracted." Ginny winked and Hermione knew the witch would stand beside her, no matter her choices.

"Good then, I could use a good snog." Hermione embraced the thin red-haired witch tightly before they left the loo with promises of getting completely pissed.

* * *

"Zabini. Malfoy." Harry Potter rolled his eyes and flounced into the booth. He didn't sneer neither did he smile. It was a begrudging sort of acceptance. He sipped the foam from the top of his pint and studied his companions.

He couldn't see what Ginny was raving about when it came to Blaise Zabini. He wasn't as vile as his counterpart, but Harry knew he couldn't judge Malfoy too harshly. He didn't wish to tune out yet another Hermione Granger lecture on the subject of Draco Malfoy.

"See, I told you it would be fine. They're all in one piece." Ginny climbed over Harry and Blaise, plopping herself between Blaise and Draco once more.

Hermione's eyes flitted to Harry as she offered a tight smile and resumed her previous seat. Draco was mildly surprised she hadn't thrown herself into Potter's arms. There was obviously a rift between the two which pleased him more than it should. Luna Lovegood was a strange addition to the small group, but more than welcome. Draco had never envisioned Harry Potter becoming completely besotted with the uniquely strange Ravenclaw, but it was quite obvious in the manner he looked at her.

"They're disgustingly adorable. Pay them no mind, Malfoy." He froze; the soft sweet minty scented breath sweeping gently along his jaw was most unexpected. The tumbler he had been grasping shattered, startling the occupants as the amber liquid splashed across the table.

Hermione immediately shoved his hand into her lap, inspecting his palm for damage. He closed his eyes, knowing they were black and breathed deeply. Draco assumed she slipped her wand from some hidden fold when the sting dissipated. Her fingertips roved the lines before dropping his hand quickly, almost as if it burned. Draco flexed his fingers, flashing her a small smile, yet he toyed with the hem of her pencil skirt.

She immediately sat straighter and although the sensation wasn't completely foreign, she didn't wish to make a scene. Hermione poured herself another drink, swallowing it quickly. She was well aware of the curious eyes across the table and although she supposed her younger self would offer an explanation; her older self rebelled against such ideas.

"I suppose judging from the state of the tequila bottle, we're not celebrating." Harry snorted, sipping languidly from his pint, while wrapped around Luna.

"Is Ron coming as well?" Luna smiled brightly, having no issue with any of the witches or wizards present. She wriggled her fingers toward Hermione.

"I didn't invite him. He's been...well he and Hermione have...it's just...she heard a rumor at the Ministry and..." Ginny stammered, obviously ill at ease.

"I don't want to see him and Ginny loves me more." Hermione giggled.

"Granger's pissed." Blaise snickered.

"Er uhm, I sent him an owl..." Harry grunted, decidedly disliking being on the receiving end of a bony elbow to the ribs.

"In that case, I require more drinks. My bottle is almost empty I can't have that. Also food. Where's Frank? FRANK!" Draco wasn't expecting a face full of golden brown curls when Hermione maneuvered herself onto her knees. She shouted over the roar of the patrons, waving frantically to a robust gentleman they could only assume was Frank.

"Allo love. Been one o' those days eh? I'll bring you a platter in jus' a bit." She laughed, nodding eagerly even when Frank swatted her with his bar towel. She teetered on her knees. Draco knew if it weren't for his reflexes Hermione Granger would be lying on the wet oak table instead of held in his hands.

"You're making quite a habit of this aren't you?" He wasn't able to formulate a coherent response. She laughed and while he blinked the surprise from his now grey eyes, she ruffled his hair with both hands before climbing across his lap.

He wasn't averse to having Hermione Granger in his lap. As much as he was still coming to terms with his newfound heritage, it still surprised him. Her torso stretched over his lap, drawing his eyes to the roundness of her bum despite receiving the threatening glower from Harry Potter. Hermione yanked on Blaise's arm, forcing him to her level. She ruffled his dark hair and smiled at Ginny.

"Thanks for letting me throw my shoe at you. Be good to her or I'll chop off your cock." She giggled once more, feeling lighter than she had in years. Ginny slapped her raised hand and quickly finished her glass of wine. "I...I can't get up." Hermione's knees gave out and she splayed herself across Draco Malfoy's thighs.

He silently begged his body to behave itself. The last thing he needed was a raging erection to jab Hermione Granger's stomach, though that was definitely the direction things were headed. He flipped her over, deciding that would be the best course of action. Of course she giggled. Of course when he hovered over her she threw her arms around his neck. Of course she was now seated on his lap and refused to remove herself. He couldn't very well complain without infuriating...himself. He thought he had entered the seventh ring of hell when she adjusted herself until she faced Blaise.

"You're drunk." It was the only statement Draco could think to say as he was in the midst of an emotional rollercoaster. Harry was mildly surprised Draco hadn't unceremoniously knocked Hermione to the floor and shouted about Mudblood germs.

"You're pretty." Hermione giggled, fluffing his hair once more as Harry choked on his ale at the giggling declaration.

He didn't love the idea of his friend lounging casually on the lap of his former enemy but he supposed things could be worse. He couldn't pinpoint exactly how they could be worse, but he was certain the possibility existed. Harry attempted to listen to the babbling conversation between his fiancée and Ron's sister but he'd be lying if dress colours interested him in the least. Hermione was quite enthralled with Malfoy's hair and the idea of engaging him in conversation still left a bad taste in his mouth. Finally he turned to Blaise and shrugged.

"What's going on there?" Harry gestured with his pint toward the intoxicated witch and slightly distressed wizard.

Blaise hadn't wasted his time forming an opinion as far as Harry Potter was concerned. He thought the boy was overrated, as did most Slytherins but other than that, he hadn't thought of him at all. He supposed if he was going to make a real go of it with Ginny, he would be forced to be at least be on friendly terms with the bloke. In true Slytherin form, he studied Harry until the wizard squirmed while leaning on his elbows.

"Does it matter?" Blaise decided he could probably like Harry Potter. He smirked and sipped his pint with all the patience in the world. Harry, on the other hand, contemplated the question with a rigid seriousness.

Draco Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater, but he was as close as one got without being branded. His choices had allowed Death Eaters into Hogwarts, causing the deaths of numerous witches and wizards, though Harry knew Voldemort was determined and even if Draco had failed, Voldemort would have found another avenue to suit his needs. Dumbledore of course had perished but even without Snape, it would have happened regardless. So what exactly was Draco Malfoy's guilt? Harry shrugged, realising it was useless to desperately clutch to the animosity of their childhood. Draco had been an arrogant prat but that wasn't a reason to despise the bloke, as Harry was well aware he had his own moments of arrogance.

"I suppose not, just curious." The tanned Italian wizard was mildly impressed with Harry. He half expected the sputtering anger of a Weasley while being plagued with the same arguments he'd heard a multitude of times.

"I'll remember you said that, here comes the Weasel." Blaise poured himself another drink and braced himself.

"Blaise, I asked you to stop calling him that, you know it just riles him up." Ginny tore herself from Luna with a hiss. She didn't expect her boyfriend and brother to be best mates but their animosity toward each other was ridiculous.

"Mione, you might want to uhm...extricate yourself from Malfoy there, otherwise I can't be held accountable." Harry coughed lightly behind his hand, his eyes never leaving the red haired wizard approaching with a raven haired witch at his side.

"Don't want too. Do you want me to?" Draco was hidden behind a curtain of Hermione's hair. They were forehead to forehead and he risked every ounce of self control as he kissed the tip of her nose. Her wide smile was worth the pain.

"Don't even think of moving."

"Oi, Potter, let's have a bit of fun." Ginny moaned, already knowing everything was going to go tits up. "Granger, turn around. Malfoy sit still." Blaise giggled, which was disconcerting in and of itself, yet when he began covering Draco's head with Hermione's mane of hair it was disturbing.

"That's brilliant." Draco was effectively trapped in a garden of Hermione. His hands brushed her thighs while his face grazed her neck. He inhaled deeply, once more testing his limits. He could feel his fangs lengthening upon the proximity of her bouquet, the siren call of her pulse was maddening and still, he resisted.

"Oi! Sorry we're late. Mum insisted we stop at the Burrow. She's entertaining. It's not really entertaining when it's family though is it? I mean it's just Bill and Fleur. They're family and little Victoire isn't old enough to be interesting. Though Fleur's mother travelled with them. She's a nice old bird. Apolline, yeah that's her name." Draco stiffened, yet since he was hidden by the size of the booth and Hermione's hair it went unnoticed, though Hermione's hand sank into her lap to stroke his palm.

Ron Weasley shoved into Harry dragging his witch down with him. The confusion so blatantly obvious on his freckled face sent Harry and Blaise into a small fit of laughter.

"Hi Pansy!" Hermione shouted across the table. While she was still quite perturbed with Ron, such notions did not extend to Pansy.

Hermione wiggled slightly; the muted curse tickled her skin, though she was quickly losing focus. Soft lips were making their way up the back of her neck, large hands caressed her covered thighs and she blushed heavily.

"You alright?" Blaise knocked into Draco's shoulder, hoping his throat would remain in one piece.

Hermione nodded and snatched a chip from the platter Frank had finally produced. She continued to glower at Ron over her shot glasses. He was staring behind her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion and as the tips of his ears grew red, Ginny intervened.

"How've you been Pansy?"

Ginny couldn't claim she'd ever been friendly with Pansy Parkinson, but things had changed almost immediately after the war. There were stranger couples about than Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson; at least she hoped there were.

"I've been quite well. Ron and I spent the majority of our evening regaled with Apolline's stories. She's quite interesting and I'd never met her before tonight. Apparently she's an instructor, though I never managed to discover what it is she teaches. She's visiting with Fleur and Bill on the hope she'll be able to regain a student. It seems he's left without word and she's a bit worried. She seemed in higher spirits when we told her we were meeting you lot tonight. She even suggested stopping by, though it looks as if Granger's a bit pissed."

"You'd be pissed if you got mauled by a perverted little wizard today as well. I deserve it." Hermione took another shot, almost immediately regretting it as her head began to spin. She hiccupped and wrapped Draco's arms around her midriff.

"Mione, you hidin' a wizard in your hair?" Ron bit back yet another disparaging remark about her hair, but only due to the fact his sister mouthed the words 'bat-bogey' in his general vicinity.

"Yes Ron, it's an entire nest of rats, isn't that what you told your friends?" The logical portion of her insanely large intellect reminded her it was silly to remain miffed with Ron. He was constantly speaking before thinking, the fact he'd done it in front of his Quidditch pals shouldn't make it worse yet it did if only because it was floating around the Ministry as well.

"I said I was sorry."

"Sorry you said it or sorry I heard of it? Those are two very different things Ronald." She huffed with indignation.

"Only Hermione Granger could manage to remain all intellectual and shit while completely pissed. Bravo." Blaise clapped loudly.

"I don't think she's listening. I don't suppose it would be easy to retain her concentration based upon the flush on her cheeks. It goes to reason Malfoy's quite talented so I've heard." Luna shrugged and began twisting one of her long blonde locks around Harry's finger.

"Harry? Is she batty? What's she going on about? Did she say Malfoy?"

"Oh shit, here we go." Blaise threw back his glass of whiskey, wishing he were able to clamber from the booth.

Harry absently rubbed his scar, groaning. Of course the moment Hermione flipped her hair off the pale blonde wizard was the exact moment her earlobe was blatantly caught between his teeth. Harry had to respect him for not jumping away from Hermione with excuses. Quite the contrary, he remained focused on the allure of her earlobe and even had the audacity to lick her neck before his cold grey eyes met blazing blue. Draco was completely wrapped around Hermione and she didn't seem to mind in the least. His chin sat on her shoulder as if it had always belonged there. Even Harry had to admit they made a striking couple.

"So what, you're all just bloody friends with Malfoy now?" Ron's accusatory glare was almost comical if only due to the incredible shade of his complexion.

"Listen Wease...er Ron. I'm with your sister, Draco's my best mate. We're sort of a package deal. Ginny is mates with Hermione and Luna which sort of throws Potter over there into the mix. No one gave two shits when you started up with Pansy, so what's it matter?"

"But it's..."

"I swear if you say but it's Malfoy I'll hex you. I'm so sick of hearing that. It's been said a thousand times if it's been said once and it'll never change. He'll always be Malfoy just as you'll always be Weasley." Blaise growled and while it wasn't nearly as terrifying as Draco's growl, Ron was adequately intimidated.

"Harry?"

"He's not wrong mate. You don't see me holding a grudge over the things Pansy did, now do ya? I wouldn't be a very good friend if I tried to talk you out of dating her when you obviously fancy her and she puts up with you so more power to her." Ron looked significantly abashed and for a moment they had hope Ron would let it go. Pansy smiled, tickled pink at the idea of Draco and Hermione and slipped off to the loo.

Ron sputtered angrily before standing suddenly. Draco blamed his preoccupation with Hermione's tantalizing skin for his lowered defences. Ron grabbed her wrist roughly and yanked her from Draco's lap. Hermione's knees crashed to the floor, tears pricking her eyes.

"Ronald! Let me go!" She wrestled against his hold, yet everything seemed to happen in a blur.

Draco leapt over the table, obsidian orbs flashing, guttural snarls bursting from between puckered lips in the breath before Ron Weasley was pinned to the splintered wood behind him. Draco's internal struggle was etched into the set of his jaw. Ron shook with the sort of life altering fear, dismissing the sudden wetness to his slacks as he held his palms out in silent supplication and remorse.

"Draco!" He knew that voice. He recognised the subtle command and as he drew great breaths, he concentrated on removing his hand from Ron Weasley's throat.

He was vaguely aware of Hermione shuffling behind him as she took unsteady steps toward him. Ron attempted to object, but the formidable witch taking controlled steps in their direction confused him.

"Mr. Weasley it would be best if you were to remain silent. Draco, I wish you to release him." Draco snarled, his fingertips painfully forming the talons he detested. It was difficult for him to resist the urge to bask in the glory of feeling the skin prick, to smell the pinpricks of blood flow into the air.

"Malfoy?" His hold immediately relaxed. It was her. Her timid honeyed voice, her nimble fingers brushing his crisp navy blue shirt slowly drew him through the haze until he felt control return.

Draco shoved Ron into the wall with such anger; the post wedged into Ron's back creaked with the force. His talons retreated in the moment it took him to gather Hermione into his arms.

"I hated leaving you." He smoothed the furrow of her brow, his lips against her ear. "I'll always come back for you, just…just don't give up on me."


	7. Of Acceptance & Magic

**AN: As I'm finally a few chapters ahead I decided...why make you wait?**

**As always, thanx for reading &amp; enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Of Acceptance &amp; Magic

* * *

Apolline Delacour had not expected to walk into such a scene. Her calm facade belied her deepest fears. There was still much missing from his education and the fault lied with her. While she had delved deeply into the limited history of their race and studiously instructed him in the mannerisms required for control, she had neglected to inform him of the steps.

Narcissa in her haste had glossed over the steps prior to the marking. It was through no fault of her own, even Apolline knew that. The poor girl had not been instructed properly, if at all. Apolline was thankful the poor witch had been sent to her for instruction at all, even if it had been after her claiming of Lucius.

The Meeting of Magic was quite important, for while it wasn't considered binding by the Ministry, Veela believed otherwise and held true to their beliefs. It was a protection of sorts, for if the magic of the prospective mate was not compatible with Veela magic, the bond would sever without preamble. The lure would instantly disappear, freeing the prospective mate and also the Veela in question.

The question would then become who is the proper mate? It wasn't a question which had required an answer for centuries, yet the tradition continued. It was better to err on the side of caution. Narcissa Malfoy had been considered fortunate. In the event of incompatible magic, if the prospective mate is marked regardless, the Veela writhes in excruciating pain until the mate's death which is almost instantaneous. It is cruel magic, yet effective.

Apolline was quite certain such a tradition had come about to differentiate Veela from Vampires. Personally, she believed it to be idiocy. Vampires were creatures ruled by bloodlust and had no such qualms concerning mates when it came to their bites. Veela only mark the _one_ magical creature destined to make them whole; their completion.

She had much more important things at hand than the discrimination surrounding magical creatures. Draco Malfoy was desperately clinging to the remaining wisps of his clarity while burying himself in an intoxicated Hermione Granger.

She was thankful the Potter boy and the others had enough sense to remain still. They were a bit obtuse, though the tanned boy had knowledge shining in his dark eyes.

"Ms. Granger, I'd like you to...very slowly...and quite carefully step away from Draco." Apolline implored while she saw Harry silently bind Ron Weasley to the post.

She nodded a quick thanks to the Potter boy when she spied his wand peeking through the sleeve of his flannel shirt. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the catalyst to Draco's transformation was effectively bound and Silenced.

"Mine." The Granger girl was brave, Apolline freely admitted.

Hermione put forth a valiant effort, yet every minute adjustment was met with the tightening of the strong arms around her person. She couldn't claim to understand what all the madness was about, however it wasn't as if she minded being held. She quite liked it actually, which made her curious more than it disturbed or even frightened her. She chewed her bottom lip into oblivion, frowning in distaste as the coppery flavour hit her tongue.

Draco's left arm was practically a vise grip around her waist and his right held her neck still beneath the tumultuousness of her curls. Those things didn't bother Hermione; it was the soft exhales tickling her neck and the smooth tip of his nose running a marathon against her ear which unnerved her.

"Malfoy..." Hermione freed her hands from between their bodies. Naturally her flat palms landed on his rigid back and began smoothing the crinkles in his shirt. He sighed heavily, leaning into her.

"Mine." His canines had extended pricking his bottom lip as he began to quake under the strain.

"Alright, fine. Yours. Does that make you happy now?" Hermione stroked his sides from his waist to his shoulder blades, hoping it would calm whatever madness had beset him.

She hadn't the slightest clue what he was going on about but it was obvious he wanted something and perhaps it was in all their best interests to simply give it to him. She felt the tension ebbing from his muscles as her palms made their way up and down his trembling back. She soothed him much the way a mother would hush a fussy child.

Apolline was hopeful the entire debacle was passing as they were drawing attention from the patrons of the pub. She fervently wished Draco could harness the control he'd worked for when he abruptly pulled away from Hermione.

His eyes had lightened considerably, though they were not the liquid silver Hermione had stared into and his canines had retracted which put Apolline's fears to rest.

"Mine." Draco searched Hermione's caramel eyes, his palms cupping her cheeks, his forehead dropping to hers.

"Yours." She expected him to release her or at the very least shake himself free of whatever was holding him prisoner.

Instead, he captured her lips with a fervor she'd never experienced with him or anyone else, none could compare to this. He started at the corner of her mouth, his tongue flicking the tiny droplets of blood before slanting his mouth over hers. She could taste the tequila she'd consumed along with the slightest spice of the whiskey as it melded with the coppery tang of their wounds. There was a collective gasp even as they clung to each other in the darkened corner of the pub, yet they paid no mind to such things.

Draco concentrated on the soft pliant lips, refusing to become lost in the beckoning whispers, which demanded he mark her. She tasted of tequila and spun sugar with the slightest hint of citrus. He knew this was a defining moment and he wasn't able to properly understand why he was drawn to the flecks of red on her lips, yet he knew he had to have them. It was no longer a choice. He lost himself in the heat of her body crushed to his chest, her arms gripping his shoulders. He explored the warm cavern, his tongue probing, tasting, wanting until the slightest moan, almost a sigh, broke his reverie.

He could smell her arousal and wished nothing more than to lay her across the hardwood of the pub table and ravish her, but he knew he couldn't. As much as he knew he couldn't live without her, he refused to take the choice from her. He wrenched his lips from hers, his body screaming at his betrayal.

Hermione's lips were significantly pink and plump, and he tasted them once more, quickly so as not to be drawn back into the magical allure. Slowly he extracted his hand from her hair, allowing the other to drop from her hip and he stepped backward, once, twice, three times before turning toward Apolline.

"I-I'm sorry." He whispered his eyes firmly set on the scuffed floor.

"Draco..." He couldn't refuse Apolline again. As much as he didn't wish to leave Hermione, he knew he must.

Hermione's eyes remained closed as she attempted to regain her bearings. She was still having difficulty accepting the fact Draco Malfoy had just snogged her senseless in the middle of a Muggle pub when she was back in his arms. He held her tight for only a moment and whispered into her ear.

Draco strode past Apolline without a backward glance, leaving the pub before he was truly unable.

"I'm sorry I was tardy. Step one is complete. She'll need to make an informed decision before it's too late. I'll do what I can, but his magic will call to her as hers will call to him." With a flourish of royal blue robes, Apolline followed Draco Malfoy out of the pub before she could be barraged with questions which were not her place to answer.

* * *

"Uhm, what the hell just happened?" Pansy Parkinson was the first to speak in a sea of dumbfounded wizards.

"I think it's terribly romantic." Luna sighed, resting her head on Harry's shoulder. Ron mouthed numerous obscenities, which remained unheard and wholeheartedly ignored.

"We should get out of here." Blaise warily eyed a group of Muggles who looked a bit rough around the edges as he slid from the booth. Ginny tossed her arm around Hermione the moment she was free and tugged her along to the exit.

"Oi, what's wrong with your mate eh?" A burly Muggle with a mud stained rugby jersey gestured toward an angry Ron.

"Oh eh, nothing. He's...well, he's mute and he has a tendency to forget when he's had too much to drink." Harry, with Blaise's help hauled Ron to his feet and quickly carried him from the pub.

"Where to?" Blaise cut to the heart of the matter. While their planned evening had taken a turn, he had no intention of deserting Hermione in her current state.

"Definitely not the Burrow, Molly will ask too many questions. I suppose Grimmauld Place is our best bet. We can head over to the Leaky Cauldron, I'm sure Tom will let us use his Floo for a few galleons." Harry and Blaise dragged Ron between them, each blaming his temper for their current predicament.

Luna looped her arm through Hermione's hugging it tight, leaving a displeased Ginny and Pansy to dutifully follow.

"Did I really see Draco snogging Granger?" Pansy accidentally bumped Ginny's shoulder, stumbling slightly on her stiletto heels.

"Is that a problem, Parkinson?" Ginny took issue with Pansy.

It wasn't that she was a former Slytherin or even that she was dating her brother. It was Pansy's history with Blaise that bothered her the most. Ginny Weasley had always prided herself on being a strong woman, a strong witch, but there was something about Pansy which made her question herself. Blaise wasn't one to discuss his past relationships with the claim that a gentleman never tells, but Ginny wanted him to tell. She wanted him to tell her he no longer felt anything for his former flame. She wanted to feel reassured with her new station in his life and she detested the feelings of insecurity which made themselves apparent whenever she saw Pansy.

"I don't know what you're insinuating, it was just a question. If I still maintained animosity toward any of you, I wouldn't be dating your brother and I definitely wouldn't be working my fingers to the bone with Hermione Granger. I assume the same holds true for you in regards to Blaise, please correct me if I'm wrong." Pansy's long pink fingernails grasped the sleeve of Ginny's peasant blouse, halting their steps along the cobblestone.

"I just don't know about you. I'm not sure I trust you." Ginny kept a watchful eye on Blaise as he practically carried Ron into the Leaky Cauldron.

"I don't know what your problem is, Ginny. I haven't been anything less than pleasant. I've apologised to Harry for actions during the midst of the war and he's forgiven me. When my family's entire fortune was stripped from them for reparations, Hermione Granger was the only person willing to hire me. We've grown quite close despite the way people treat me. She's always defended me and we treated her worst in school. If she can forgive me, why can't you?" Pansy had a point, though Ginny was remiss to admit it.

"Blaise. It's Blaise alright? He won't discuss anything related to Hogwarts and your relationship with him and it makes me wonder what else he's hiding from me." Ginny crossed her arms angrily, reining in her famous Weasley temper with difficulty.

"Those were dark times, Ginny. I don't know any Slytherin that enjoys speaking about those days. My parents were ready to sell me off to the highest bidder and Blaise swooped in prepared to save me from a life of misery. We didn't have a relationship, not really. He figured if I was going to be forced to marry someone, it might as well be a friend. He offered, my parents accepted and we played our parts. I was the vicious viper, Blaise was the aloof intellect and Draco, well, he was the prejudiced, arrogant son of a Death Eater. We were all we had. We had to stick together otherwise we never would have made it out alive. Don't get me wrong or anything, we most definitely weren't angels, but sometimes a person must do what is necessary for survival. Draco and I actually tried dating for a bit, but it was disastrous. I imagine it went something along the lines of Ron and Hermione." Pansy blinked away the tears gathering in her dark eyes and began walking away when Ginny tossed her arm around Pansy's shoulders.

"I feel guilty now. I'm always on the outside looking in. When we were in school it was the Golden Trio and I was just this after thought. I desperately wanted to help but I was constantly left behind. They have all these secrets between each other and I'll never understand them. Sometimes I see the same look between you and Blaise and I feel like I'm going to be left behind again and I don't know if I could take it. I care about him, much more than I'm willing to admit to him of course, but things with Harry fell apart because of all the secrecy and..."

"You should be telling him this. He'd understand. I suppose Blaise believes he's protecting you and it's up to you to inform him otherwise. Come on then, we should catch up before Blaise and Ron have a fit. What do you think about Draco and Hermione though, honestly?" Pansy could barely contain her excitement. It was one thing to listen to Narcissa chatter on about Draco and the possibility of Hermione, it was quite another to witness it herself.

"I'm not sure. I don't really know Malfoy. He's bloody gorgeous and intelligent as well. He was only a few points behind Hermione in school and she could use the intellectual stimulation after attempting to date my brother."

"Hey!" Pansy pouted and while her eyelashes were long and beautiful, her pout reminded Ginny entirely too much of a pug.

"Sorry, but there's no contest between Hermione and Ron. Throw Ron's temper into the mix and it's a wonder he's managed to survive this long."

"Well, Draco is ridiculously possessive and jealous. I don't see that going over very well either."

Ginny rolled her eyes and tossed Tom a few coins. She offered Pansy the Floo Powder and just before she disappeared in the green flames, Ginny winked.

"Yeah, but at least Draco Malfoy is bloody gorgeous. Can't say that about Ron." Ginny cackled catching the pure outrage on Pansy's painted lips.

* * *

The moment Draco Malfoy had arrived at his familial Manor, he had stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly around his room and growled. He rummaged through his bureau until he found a leisure suit. He smirked as he yanked his body parts into the soft material, knowing his mother detested when he dressed like a Muggle. Before long, he was lacing up his trainers and jogging through his wing of the Manor until he was outside.

He needed the fresh air to breathe. The scent of her clung to his clothes, was burned into his nostrils and he couldn't think without conjuring images of her soft curls, her wide brown eyes and her delicious lips. He was going to go mad before long if he couldn't see her, therefore he decided to run.

Draco concentrated on the sound of his feet squishing in the green grass as he jogged round and round the Manor. He expected his parents thought him to be a bit mental, but he was past caring. He also expected Apolline to arrive momentarily to reprimand him for leaving France in such haste.

It hasn't been his intention to leave, not directly. He had been wandering the garden of her quaint cottage set behind the Delacour estate and stepped into a field of lavender. He hadn't been expecting the sensory overload which accompanied the scent of it. Of course to make it worse, it had begun to rain. He had stood in the tall grass, just on the other side of the field of lavender and inhaled deeply until he was soaked through.

Apolline had called to him, but he was frozen. It wasn't all of her and it wasn't enough of her and while he was intent upon insisting he detested her, he only wished to be near her. When his ruddy owl had dropped yet another missive from his mother at his soggy feet, it was the end of him and he had Disapparated immediately.

Draco pushed himself harder, willing his body into a frothy sweat until his ligaments rebelled at the abuse. He passed his mother's garden for a third time; adamantly ignoring the pull to search for the patch of lavender he knew existed.

"Draco! Enough of this madness! What will people think?" His father called to him from the portico of the back garden, shading his eyes from the orangey glow of the sunset.

Draco slowed to a trot, staring at his father in amazement. Lucius was channeling his inner aristocratic pompousness proudly it seemed.

"What people Father? We haven't a neighbour for miles." Draco wiped his face with the bottom of his white tee shirt with exasperation.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why he hadn't discussed his mate with his parents. He could simply imagine the shock and disgust, even if their words depicted otherwise and he hadn't the constitution for it.

"Your mother and Madame Delacour are awaiting your presence in the drawing room." Lucius withheld his opinion that his son was in rather dire need of a shower and proper clothing, as it would fall upon deaf ears.

Draco sighed heavily, his gaze lingering longingly at the small purple flowers swaying in the light breeze. He brushed passed his father without a word and immediately walked into the drawing room.

Apolline pursed her lips at his unruly appearance and his mother gasped in shock, neither of which surprised him in the least. He sat heavily in the soft green armchair furthest from the hearth, casually tossed his leg over the side and snapped his fingers.

"Rosie, bring me tequila...please." The female house elf with the bulbous eyes nodded quickly, returning just as quickly with an array of bottles on a silver platter.

"Rosie dids not know what kinds the young Master prefers. Rosie brings them all." Draco studied the little elf, taking in her tatty pillowcase and shivering limbs.

"Rosie, do you like working here?" He thought the elf would faint from the shock of it all.

"Y-yes...Master Draco, Rosie loves..." He noticed the large brown eyes flicking to his mother and without turning to her, he knew she was glowering at the elf.

"Rosie, pay my mother no mind. You're my elf, aren't you then? I'd just like you to answer the question."

"Rosie loves Master Draco." Draco studied the various bottles of tequila, finally deciding on the clear liquid he had witnessed Hermione drinking.

"Alright then, I want you to listen quite carefully now. Do you think you can do that?" Rosie's head bobbed so quickly he wondered how it remained attached. "I detest that tatty pillowcase and I don't wish to see it again. However, I can't have you running about starkers so here is what I'm going to do. You shall not punish yourself nor beg, cry or plead with me. I am going to clothe you...HOWEVER..." Draco felt it necessary to shout as Rosie immediately began to wail, falling on her tiny knees.

"You shall not be sent away. I simply wish you to look respectable. I shall not offer you payment for your services, however, if you wish to visit your family that would be fine. I know you have sisters or something, do you not?" Rosie lifted her bulbous head from the floor and stared at her young Master for a few moments before remembering how to speak.

"Ye-yes Master Draco. Rosie has sisters and brothers."

"Very good then, now that it's all settled, come here please." Draco was uncomfortable speaking to a house elf so kindly, however he knew it would please _her_ immensely, which comforted him in some small manner. Rosie crept forward carefully, her knees knocking together in terror. "Rosie, I've left a bit of a mess in my chambers. Do not launder the clothes I've left strewn about. You can place them on my bed if they offend you." He patted Rosie's head softly and turned toward his mother.

"Madame, has my son become daft? What's the meaning of such madness?" Narcissa's hand fanned her face dramatically and with shaky limbs she sat primly on the edge of the settee.

"I suppose it's because of her, now isn't it Draco?" Apolline studied him carefully, her blue eyes skimming the light flush of his skin and the softness around his eyes.

Perhaps she had been wrong to keep him from his mate. It seemed Draco Malfoy had calmed significantly and for whatever reason, she could only be thankful her furniture would no longer be suffering his wrath.

"Well, I don't suppose there's a point in keeping it from them any longer is there, Apolline? The Daily Prophet is going to have a bloody field day." He groaned, his nimble fingers pushing his hair off his face as he poured himself a small glass of tequila.

"You've found her then? Is that what you're saying?" Draco swallowed hard and met the bright blue eyes staring at him hopefully. He hated that he would have to watch the light and happiness fade from his mother's face, but it couldn't be helped.

"Mother...I never lost her. I've known who she is from Apolline's very first visit. In fact, I spent a delectable evening with her in the Leaky Cauldron the last time I escaped France." Draco threw his other leg over the arm of the chair and covered his face with his arm. It was always easier to deal with his mother if he couldn't see the damming fire in her eyes.

"Wonderful! Who is she? Do we know her? Do we know her family? Please tell me she comes from good breeding; I don't know what your father would do otherwise. Have you spoken with her? Has she..." Narcissa had carefully constructed her questions so as not to arouse her son's suspicions and she ignored Apolline's shrewd eyes, feigning ignorance.

"Moooother." Draco groaned, his shoulders tense with the anxiety of it all.

"What is it Draco? I'm your mother. Am I not allowed to be curious over the future of my family?" Apolline snorted, helping herself to a much needed glass of sherry.

"You've met her, mother. Once I believe, during one of the darkest times in our family history." Draco decided it would be best to omit the fact his mother was working alongside the woman he lived for.

"Oh dear, it's not Pansy is it? You know I can barely tolerate her mother and..."

"Mother, just stop. I beg of you, stop. It's not Pansy, Daphne, Astoria, or any other assortment of respectable Slytherin's you're waiting to spout forth. She's not Slytherin. She's not pureblood. She's not anything you'd wish her to be and Merlin help me, I love her." Narcissa managed to maintain an apathetic façade in order to glean more information.

She had not informed Apolline she knew exactly which witch was her son's proper mate as it pleased her greatly to harbor a secret. It would be easy to assume Narcissa Malfoy was just as bigoted and prejudiced as her husband considering she had played her part during the war and played it well, however that had never been the truth of the matter. It was easier to placate Lucius than to face the idea of living without her mate and placate him is exactly what she had done.

"Draco, why do you love her?" Apolline had silently crossed the drawing room, ignoring the distasteful pattern of flowers over stripes on the wall to ruffle Draco's damp locks.

"Apolline...I don't...it's just..." Draco closed his eyes and smiled. "She's this...enigma. Alright then, so she's like this really complicated tome. You don't necessarily want to read it because the subject matter doesn't interest you all that much. You only started it because well, it would be rude otherwise. When you first begin flipping through the pages you detest the story and you really want to set it on fire, but the more you read the more you want to read. You're about halfway through it and you're completely enamored with it. Sure there are other characters and you still don't like them, in fact you detest them the more you learn about them, but the main character, she's incredibly interesting...brave...intelligent, so you'll put up with the others for her sake. Just when you think you've almost finished it and completely unraveled the mystery, because of course it would be a mystery…magically there's hundreds more pages and you realise...it doesn't matter how long you read the bloody book, it's never going to end and you're never going to figure it out and it doesn't bother you in the least."

"Why doesn't it bother you?"

"Because the way it's written is a beautiful work of prose and poetry...and it makes you fall in love with her and you wonder if there was ever a chance...if there was a ever choice of it turning out any other way...but you think about it, drive yourself mad with it and discover you wouldn't want it too."

"Why wouldn't you want it too?" Apolline was delighted Narcissa had been paying attention and chosen to join their conversation.

"It's hard to love her. The book isn't written in such a way that she's perfect. She has flaws just like everyone else and they're crystal clear even if she can't see them herself. She doesn't even see how beautiful she is. I enjoy a challenge; I think that's what it is. I wouldn't want to read a story where I know exactly how it's going to end before I've finished the first chapter. I prefer a slow burn of intrigue and adventure and that's what she is. You don't even realise you love her, it takes time and it sort of sneaks up on you and even if you'll never have her, it was a beautiful story."

"Draco, why would you think she'd never have you? Any woman would consider herself extremely lucky to marry into our family and bear the next Malfoy heir. We've turned down numerous proposals for betrothals over the years..."

"Not her. She doesn't give a shit about the Malfoy fortune or the prestige of our name among the elite. It doesn't impress her in the least, never mind the fact you and Father would never accept her. I'm doomed. I want her. I can't imagine my life without her which is funny because before all this I couldn't imagine my life with her in it, but it's all different now and I wouldn't care, but I can't put her through it. It wouldn't be fair to subject her to the ridicule. She deserves more than that. She deserves so much more and I wish I could give it to her." Draco's feet slapped the marble loudly, startling his mother.

He'd never seen her look absolutely incredulous before, but he supposed there truly was a first for everything. Draco cocked his head, sad eyes set upon Apolline, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

"Draco, darling...who is she? I won't judge you or her too terribly, I swear it." Narcissa only knew there were tears on her cheeks after Apolline thrust an embroidered handkerchief in her trembling hands.

Lucius Malfoy burst into the drawing room, obliterating the moment with crisp steps across the marble. His long blond hair swung behind him as he shook a letter between his white knuckled fingers.

"Do you mind telling me why an invitation to Harry Potter's birthday party was sent to my home and addressed to my son?!" He flung the letter toward the fireplace, hoping to watch it burn.

He hadn't expected his son, his heir, to leap up from the armchair and snatch it from the embers before they could engulf it in flames. His grey eyes shot daggers even as his son tore open the envelope, his eager eyes scouring the hastily scrawled words and smiled. Lucius Malfoy's son bloody well smiled at a letter from Harry fucking Potter. He swallowed the acrid taste of bile as it worked its way up his throat and sneered.

"Mother, Apolline, I'm sorry, may I be excused? I've got to send a response immediately." Narcissa's heart fluttered upon seeing the undeniable love shining in her son's eyes.

She decided it didn't matter who had been chosen, it never had and eventually she would tell him. He was her son and he deserved his witch, no matter who she happened to be, especially if she brought such light to his life.

"Surely you jest. Reply? To Harry Potter?" Lucius snarled, the corner of his upper lip twitching in unveiled hatred.

Draco looked to his mother, grey eyes locking on wide blue, holding her gaze until her eyebrows rose in silent question.

"No, Father." Draco couldn't contain the bubble of happiness from making its way to his lips and he resisted the urge to smile brightly, even with a flush on his cheeks. "Hermione. Hermione Granger."

* * *

"Mione, what did he say to you?" Of her two friends, Harry had always been more level headed and she appreciated it. She fingered her bottom lip, paying special care to the cut she had given herself, yet it was gone.

"It's private, Harry."

Harry had been elected to speak with Hermione after Ginny had decided Ron was entirely too volatile. He leaned on the sink basin as Hermione's words were whispered into the obvious silence.

Upon arriving at Grimmauld Place, the portraits had immediately been Silenced and Ginny had unceremoniously bound Ron to a grubby armchair. Ron had sulked when Pansy had agreed with the punishment. He supposed he deserved it, but it didn't make him feel better.

Currently, Blaise, Ginny, Luna and Pansy were huddled behind the kitchen door, attempting to eavesdrop on Harry and Hermione's conversation. Ginny gleefully held onto a pair of Extendable Ears as they tried to keep their reactions to a minimum. It wouldn't bode well for them if they were caught.

"Have you been seeing him secretly or something? I mean, I would understand if you were, considering Ron's reaction, but I'd like to think you trust me more than that." Harry took to drying the dishes by hand, knowing Hermione preferred to wash dishes without magic.

"N-no, Harry, not exactly." Hermione leaned against the sink basin and closed her eyes. "It was one night that started it all. He stood behind me on the lift after another horrid meeting at the Ministry. Later, when my shoe got caught in the cobblestone, my bag broke and it started to rain…well, he was there. We sat and talked in Tom's backroom and…"

"Please for the love of Merlin do not give me any intimate details."

"Don't be revolting, I wasn't planning on it. Regardless, he had to leave and today was the first time I've seen him since then." Harry shoved the last plate into the cupboard while glaring at Hermione's back.

"You're not going to tell me what he said, are you?"

"No. First I need to speak with Blaise. It's obvious that bastard knows something. Then, I'm going to send Malfoy an owl. I need to speak with him as well." Hermione wiped her hands on her red apron and pulled parchment from one of the many drawers.

"An owl? You, Hermione Granger, Muggle-born witch is going to send an owl to Malfoy Manor?"

"No, you are. At least they're going to believe it was you." Hermione smiled brightly, taking quill to parchment.


	8. Of Anger & Touch

**AN: While I'm not as ahead as I'd wish to be, I do believe you've all waited long enough.  
I can't even begin to tell you the number of plot bunnies which are simply aching to make an appearance, but I have diligently denied them.  
Must. Finish. Current. Stories. First. - that's my current mantra.**

**As always...thanx for reading. *kisses***

* * *

Of Anger &amp; Touch

* * *

"I forbid it! I will not have it!" Lucius Malfoy raged.

Narcissa and Apolline didn't expect it would take Lucius long to discover his son's preordained mate, though they had wished it taken more than a few seconds. Draco had practically skipped from the drawing room with his nose pressed against the parchment. Apolline deduced the poor besotted boy hadn't even realised he was purring, which is what drew his father's attention.

"Lucius…"

"Do not touch me." Lucius Malfoy thrust his wife's imploring hands from his regal black robes and snarled.

"Don't do this." Narcissa did not attempt to embrace her husband, instead sitting primly on the edge of a high backed chair, her hands kept busy by stroking the smooth dark wood of the dining table.

"The purest of bloodlines traced back by centuries of pureblood Malfoys, the heir of the Malfoy fortune, destined for greatness to be marred by the likes of a Mudblood?! I shall not have it! I'd rather our family line die out than to suffer such impurities." Lucius paced the length of the enormous room, his robes billowing out behind him, his cane tapping the marble with such force Apolline was sure he cracked it. "Madame Delacour, tell me, what would happen to my son if she were to befall a most unfortunate accident?"

Apolline Delacour had expected nothing less where Lucius was concerned. Of course his first inclination would be to investigate the easiest way to extricate his son from such an undesirable situation. She assumed he would never even attempt to accept a Muggle-born witch into his family, though it is not as if she hadn't warned him. Perhaps it would behoove him to be reminded of such things.

"Lucius, do you not recall the titillating conversation we once shared on the evening of Draco's transition?" Apolline adjusted her pastel blue hat, tucking a stray blonde strand behind her ear.

Slowly, her pastel blue peep toe heels clipped across the mottled gray marble. She lowered herself into the high backed chair directly beside Narcissa at the head of the table. Her sharp elbows struck the smooth wood and she tented her hands, languidly tapping her fingertips against the other, while awaiting his response.

Lucius Malfoy angry steps slowed until finally they stopped. He removed his robes, throwing them at a cowering house elf and Apolline was not shocked to see him proudly gadding about in his house colours. His dark grey slacks were perfectly pressed, as was the forest green dress shirt with pearl buttons. She snorted upon spying the shiny silver tie with the light green pinstripes.

"Do not think I have not noticed you most certainly did not answer my question, Madame Delacour." Apolline stared into his silvery eyes without malice, flicking to the chair nearest him and back again until he sunk down.

Narcissa was mildly impressed. She hadn't seen Lucius bend to anyone's will since his father, Abraxas. It was pleasing to witness, until the moment passed.

"He would soon follow her. Their bond is unlike any I've ever seen. I can't imagine how much stronger it will be forged once they complete The Ritual."

"Wait, are you saying he's seen her and has not marked her?" Narcissa seized Apolline's hand applying more pressure than necessary in her enthusiasm.

"My dear Narcissa, he's done more than simply see her." The inflection in Apolline's voice left little to the imagination.

"You said anything was better than a Weasley!" Narcissa kicked back her chair in a manner most unbecoming the Matriarch of the Malfoy family and she couldn't have cared less.

She brandished her wand, stabbing her husband's chest with the tip until he recoiled.

"I only meant…I didn't mean…Narcissa, a Mudblood? I ca…" Narcissa's palm slapped his cheek with such force his head snapped to the side. The corner of his upper lip twitched in anger as he glowered at his wife's audacity. "Half-blood Malfoys? Half-blood grandchildren?"

"Better than none at all you son of a bitch!"

* * *

Hermione Granger quickly scourgified Ron's slacks before she began puttering about Grimmauld Place. She blatantly ignored Blaise and even Harry as they sputtered together in the sitting room. Pansy and Ginny had enough sense to remain silent, simply following Hermione and aiding her in her quest to scour the place clean.

"You believe him?" Hermione stiffened upon hearing Harry question Blaise. She rested against the faded green wallpaper just outside the sitting room.

"Are you sure Weasley is secure?" Blaise eyed the furious Gryffindor warily.

"Hermione bound him." Harry offered, assuming his reply was explanation enough. He readily admitted Hermione's spells were better than his without a bit of shame.

"He demanded my presence while he was in France. I'm not going into details or anything, but he grew quite angry with me. It was terrifying, so yeah, I believe him. If you'd seen it, you'd believe him as well."

"Do you think he'd hurt her though?"

"Potter, are you completely daft? Did you not see the same thing I saw at the pub? He went bloody ballistic when Weasley grabbed her. He'd never hurt her. He's incapable of it. I don't know what you're worried about Potter, this is Granger. I'm sure she knows more about this Veela nonsense than he does." Blaise huffed and Hermione listened to the clinking of glasses and the crackle of the fire before venturing forth.

"The Meeting of Magic. The Request. The Acceptance. The Mark." Hermione curled onto the tatty green sofa, clutching the mug of steaming tea, Ginny had shoved into her frigid hands.

Blaise and Hermione shared a small look which was missed by the present company, besides Pansy. Her dark eyes narrowed dangerously. It was obvious the two were keeping secrets and she couldn't imagine it boding well for anyone involved. Hermione on the other hand had no intention of sharing with Harry Potter the missing step of The Ritual.

"See Potter, your little Gryffindor know-it-all is perfectly apprised of the five step Veela Ritual." Blaise crossed his arms with an air of superiority until Hermione sent a Stinging Jinx directly at his face.

"You only said four!" Ron finally shouted. He had calmed significantly but not enough for his friends to feel comfortable releasing him from his bindings. "Listen, I don't even care anymore alright? Let me loose, I've got to use the loo and I'd prefer not to do it in my bleedin' pants."

"Again."

"SHUT UP HARRY!" Blaise snorted despite the inflamed nature of his features and Ginny flicked her wand until he resembled himself once more.

Pansy tugged Ron upstairs so she could speak with him after he used the loo. She felt as if she should confess her errant youth to Hermione, but she wasn't capable of discerning whether it would be for the best or make things more difficult.

It wasn't as if she and Draco had once had a torrid love affair or anything. It was a few awkward kisses during their fourth year and that had been the end of it. However, she was quite aware of his dalliances with Daphne Greengrass and while she was no longer friends with the brunette witch, she wanted to warn Hermione of the dangers. Daphne was quite proficient in the Dark Arts and had dragged a most willing Theo Nott with her in their dedication to the now fallen Dark Lord. Pansy couldn't imagine it going over well when it came out that Draco Malfoy was completely enamored with Hermione Granger. It could very well be a dangerous situation for them both.

"Ron, do you really take issue with it all?" Ron wiped his wet hands on his slacks and noted the nervousness in Pansy with a practiced eye.

"Pans, you know I don't think about her like that anymore. I mean sure, when we were in school, but she's family. I want her to be happy, it's just his family has always been horrid to mine. I know my family's poor and the Malfoys well, they're bloody rich aren't they, but do they have to…" Ron stopped, hanging his head. It wasn't that he was necessarily ashamed of his family, but when it was thrust in his face, he had trouble keeping his temper in check.

"I'd like you to try, for me and for them as well. If Draco were to be disparaging toward your family, it would hurt your feelings and it would hurt Hermione's as well, considering how close she is to your family. Draco would never do anything to hurt her, especially if hurting you means hurting her."

Pansy waited patiently for Ron to process the information. She didn't mind that he was a little slow on the uptake because he was kind to her. He was always surprised when she kissed him or held his hand and never pressed her for more than she was willing to give. He lavished her with gifts from the galleons he'd received from the Ministry, despite her protests. It was easy for Pansy to see why Hermione and Ron had never made a proper go of it. Ron was the sort of wizard that needed to feel needed and Hermione wasn't the sort of witch who needed anyone it seemed.

"I'm not making any promises or anything, but I'll try to behave myself I suppose." Pansy rewarded Ron with a small kiss upon his cheek, smiling shyly as he blushed furiously.

"I still think it's terribly romantic." Luna poured goblets of elf wine, ignoring the groans and heaving sighs from the men.

Ron and Pansy sat in an armchair, pressed so close together they were almost one and dutifully sipped from their glasses. Blaise watched Ginny flit about the room, wondering why she was so obviously nervous. When he had first thought of dating the fiery witch, the idea was new and intriguing, even a little exciting, but after dating her for the last half year, he knew it wasn't love.

Adrien Pucey kept telling him he expected too much. Blaise wanted passion and fire. He held to a notion, a ridiculous notion he'd been told, that when he met the right witch, he'd absolutely know it. In the beginning, he had hoped it would be Ginny, but their passion had fizzled into nothing more than friendship really. Sometimes Blaise wondered why she didn't end it, but then he supposed she was wondering the same.

"I have to admit I'm having difficulty with it all. I mean think about it. I've done extensive reading on the subject, considering Magical Creatures are absolutely fascinating…" Hermione kicked Harry's foot when he pretended to snore loudly. "I'm a Muggle-born witch. I barely qualify as a witch at all according to the old ways of thinking. I do not doubt he's Veela, simply the idea that I could potentially be his mate."

"Hermione, you're not implying that you're not good enough for him, are you?" Luna stared deep into Hermione's honey eyes, smoothing her curls with a light hand.

"I didn't mean it that way, Luna. It's simply that his family has always looked down on me, so I can't imagine a scenario where _they_ would be accepting." Hermione twirled a strand of hair around her finger, yanking on it hard.

"Lucius is a prick. He's always been a prick and quite honestly he'll die as one as well. Cissa is delightful once you manage to get past her cool exterior. Apolline approves heartily if that's any consolation and if anyone can get the Malfoys in line, it's her." Blaise crossed his leg at the knee, bouncing his foot.

"This is quite a lot to take in you realise? It could be anyone if you think about it. How do you know it's me?" Harry meandered to Hermione and pulled her to her feet with ease.

She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder and his arms came around her as they usually did in such times of need. Hermione didn't cry and Harry hadn't expected her too. It was the silent communication of comfort which had him rubbing soothing circles on her back. Harry opened his eyes to kiss her brow and froze. Hermione felt Harry stiffen and lifted her head. She studied the memorable green eyes to see them wide with fear.

"Hermione, t-trust me…it's you." Harry whispered, a warble to his voice.

She slowly stepped out of his embrace and Harry's arms fell to his side, his gaze never leaving the door. Hermione's head quirked to the side and she glanced questioningly at Blaise, but he seemed to be ignoring her existence as well. In fact, the longer she perused the small room filled with familiar wizards, the extent of their sudden interest in other things became glaringly apparent.

"Mine." The guttural growl didn't terrify her in the least, though Hermione supposed it should.

Draco Malfoy stood in the doorjamb with eyes dark as pitch. His fingers had elongated into sharp talons, which pricked the seam of his slacks. His chest heaved with exertion of breathing, as a deep low growl emanated from within. He snarled, his teeth gnashing, fangs protruding to his bottom lip.

Hermione slowly turned around and stared, with her mouth slightly agape. Harry Potter, without thinking, placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her still, which was a mistake. Draco's agility was astounding. In a single leap, he crossed the room and snatched Hermione from Harry's arms. There was a collective gasp from the stunned wizards and then they were gone.

Harry Potter spun in a quick circle almost as if he expected them to instantly reappear. Luna smiled and kissed him hard before shoving him into a chair.

"Luna! We've got to do something. He just…he took her." Harry immediately turned to Ron for support, but even Ron just shrugged and continued snogging Pansy.

"Harry, I'm sure she'll be fine. I'd much rather play that game you mentioned earlier. What was it?"

"Luna, shh that's not…it's not for…" Harry blushed furiously, silently pleading with his girlfriend to stop speaking.

"Oh I remember! You said you wanted to Slytherin my Hufflepuff." Luna smiled broadly quite proud of herself whereas Harry wished the floor would swallow him whole.

"Sweet Merlin, Harry." Ginny choked on her glass of wine and shook her head.

* * *

Draco expected her to be seething with anger when he whisked her away from Grimmauld Place. He waited for the angry outburst while gazing out the largest window in his home. His fingers itched to feel her smooth skin. His nostrils twitched with the desire to drown in her scent. His body ached with want, yet the only thing which belied his need was the short, forced breaths escaping between his teeth.

Hermione wasn't sure what the proper reaction for being swept away in a fit of Veela rage was and therefore remained silent. Once it was obvious Draco had no intention of doing anything other than staring at her from the corner of his eye, she began to explore. It was immediately obvious he had not brought her to Malfoy Manor, for which she was grateful. Hermione knew it would have been quite a different matter if he had.

She was intrigued to discover the home was tastefully understated. She supposed it was easy to assume all Malfoys had an affinity for displaying their wealth. Hermione pushed on the heavy white door to her right and walked into the kitchen. The splashes of colour were the most surprising. A small smile graced her features upon discovering not a single room was Slytherin green. The bright yellow of the kitchen segued into the burnt orange of the dining area with great pictures of Gerber daisies on the wall. The pristine white and black lavatory led to a sky blue bedroom, beside a study with deep coffee walls and plush forest green carpeting. The walls were lined with mahogany bookshelves which kissed the ceiling and she frowned at their emptiness.

Hermione crept up the winding staircase and decided on the right once more as she made her way down the narrow corridor. She flung open another heavy door and her heart began to beat furiously beneath her ribs. She hadn't thought she'd discover a nursery. She thought perhaps another guest room but never a nursery. The walls were filled with wide stripes alternating between a pastel yellow and a glossy almost grass green. Hermione ran her fingers along the white chair rail before studying the chocolate brown beneath it.

It was just as she had imagined it. She'd never told a soul she had been plagued by recurring dreams of nurseries and a squalling child. They were intermingled with passionate nights spent writhing beneath black silk sheets and a decidedly pale yet gentle partner. Her head began to throb before she sat on the plush cushion of the window seat. A few moments later she was rushing from the room, her feet flying across the shiny hardwood until she was a few feet from Draco Malfoy.

Hermione didn't approach him. She could see the tension coming off him in waves by the tightness in his muscular back and the scrunch of his shoulders. She could see him in this room, more than anywhere else, with its rich plum walls and dark grey, almost black sofas. She pulled on the hem of her pencil skirt, wishing she had changed while she had the opportunity at Grimmauld Place. Instead she sunk into the nearest sofa and sighed.

"The Floo is open if you wish to leave." Draco didn't turn, intent upon staring into the starry night sky.

"I'm not going to leave, not yet. I have questions." He chanced a glance over his shoulder and almost wished he hadn't. "This is your home?" Draco inclined his had slightly, not trusting himself to speak.

Hermione stared at the large scenic painting over the fireplace and twirled her hair around her finger.

"You don't live here, though. How long have you had it?"

"Just over a year." He moved slowly, not wishing to startle her. "May I?" He gestured toward the empty space beside her hesitantly.

"Malfoy, it's your house, there's no need to ask me anything at all." Hermione managed a small half smile.

Draco sunk into the sofa, forgetting how it molded to the body, creating instant comfort and sighed. He faced her in the small space, laying his arm along the back, bending his knee, and stared at her.

"Why don't you live here? It's a beautiful home albeit completely devoid of personal touches. Are you aware of what Blaise told me? Are you absolutely sure? I mean, what if you're wrong and…"

"Granger, slow down." He pressed a finger to her lips which was reminiscent of moments spent in the Leaky Cauldron. "Apolline Delacour demanded I return with her to France the very first evening I was informed of my unique heritage. I bought this home the moment I discerned…" Hermione swallowed hard, knowing what he hadn't said. "I simply do not wish to live here alone. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Are you certain?" There wasn't a need to expound on her words; he knew exactly what she was asking.

"Granger…" Draco couldn't help but reach toward her and brush his knuckle down her cheek.

"Y-you know I should be furious with you."

"Why?" His thumb brushed across her cheekbone until her eyes closed.

"You keep kissing me and leaving. It would confuse any woman to tears quite frankly." Draco studied her long golden eyelashes and the deliciously alluring blush on her cheeks. She held her breath, worrying her lip when she felt the rough stubble on his cheeks flit across hers.

"Oh Granger my darling, I'm never leaving you again." Hermione felt his body heat as he surged closer to her, his limbs trembling with the effort.

"I-I should go, it's late." Draco's lips brushed her throat with soft open mouthed kisses which left her breathless.

"Please," He held her face tightly in his hands, willing her to look at him, "don't leave, Granger. I'm asking you to stay. Will you stay with me?" Draco knew he was moving too fast, but he couldn't stop the words from spilling forth and he didn't want too. The thought of her slipping through his fingers again was excruciating.

While Hermione Granger had examined every available book on Magical Creatures she could unearth, to know she was in the midst of The Ritual was quite a different sensation than to read about it. She knew to refuse him was not only an insult, but it condemned him to solitude, perhaps even death, and she wasn't capable of such cruelty. Hermione couldn't say for certain that she was prepared for everything The Ritual entailed; she couldn't delegate him to a life such as that.

"Alright." She finally breathed in the seemingly endless silence.

"Say it, please say it." His voice trembled with anxiousness, his grey eyes a storm of emotion.

"I will stay with you." It was such a simple statement and it was always the part of The Ritual she believed to be completely unnecessary until she felt the warmth of pleasure jolt in her veins. It wasn't her pleasure, she was certain until it swirled within her in such a frenzy she was no longer sure where her emotions began and his ended.

Hermione had always believed The Request to be silly and she had wondered how it had ever become part of The Ritual, but there had never been anyone to ask. She supposed Veela didn't consider The Ritual to truly have five steps; at least that much she was able to ascertain herself from numerous journals. Apparently it was a sign of respect and not all Veela respected their prospective mates enough to present them with options. It was easier to simply claim that which they believed to be theirs, than to suffer the abject horror of remaining alone.

"Malfoy, I-I have to tell you…I don't…I don't think I'm ready for…"

"I know. I can feel you." Draco fingered the ruffles on her blouse, flattening his palm on her heart.

He kissed her jaw lightly, the side of her throat, her cheeks and finally her lips. His arms encircled her waist, holding her tight. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, groaning with the exertion of keeping himself still when all he wanted to do was feel her, all of her until he was sated. Hermione's shaking hand threaded through the soft hair on the nape of his neck and he couldn't stop the wave of emotion which rushed over him.

"I'm...it's quite overwhelming to tell the truth." Hermione finally managed to breath between the hot spurts puckering her skin.

With regret and longing, Draco released her achingly slow and rose from the sofa.

"I'll have Rosie bring you a plate and show you to your room. I sent an owl to Apolline while you were…exploring. I expect she'll arrive tomorrow to answer your questions." He knew if he chanced a glance in her direction, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

"My room?" Hermione smoothed the creases in her pencil skirt and crossed her legs at the ankle.

"Granger, you can't think I would expect you to share my bed and not touch you. Yes, your room, for as long as you wish it." She stared at the curve of his back, listening to the soft thud of his shoes against the hardwood as he strode from the room.

* * *

Hermione woke to sunlight streaming through open draperies and a small house elf poking her arm. She stretched her arms over her head yawning, blinking the last remnants of sleep from her dark eyes. She shook off the ashy fingers of Malfoy's house elf and struggled to sit up while drowning in blankets.

"Please stop poking me."

Hermione vaguely remembered having a pleasant meal before being shown to the blue bedroom. Rosie had been ecstatic, practically bouncing in pleasure while tossing open the wardrobe to show her the wares. Hermione had allowed the elf to thrust a light cotton sleeping gown over her head and then climbed into the enormous four poster before falling asleep.

"Miss, it makes a horrid little noise." Rosie repeated jabbed Hermione's arm with a pointed finger, her other hand shaking a cell phone.

"How did you get this?" Hermione snatched her phone, her brows furrowed at the number of missed calls.

"Master sends me to retrieve your things. He explains it with breaking the fast." Rosie bowed quickly and with a small pop, disappeared.

Hermione listened to the floorboards creak and assumed Draco Malfoy was dutifully making his way toward her with a breakfast tray when her cell phone went off. She answered the same moment Draco knocked on the door, opening it slightly. Hermione waved him in and rolled her eyes.

"Mum, yes I'm fine." He sat the tray on the bedside table and made to leave, but she grabbed his wrist and shook her head. She wedged the phone between her shoulder and her head, which Draco found quite odd.

"I don't know why you keep asking me. I'm not coming home. We've already had this conversation." Draco froze, concentrating on the feel of her warm hand on his skin. Hermione covered her eyes with her free hand and he knew she was silently groaning.

"Well, whose fault is that? You're the one that calls it magical nonsense. It's my life. I don't want to be a bloody dentist. Yes, I'm very happy that Uncle John's daughter is thrilled with being a Muggle. She's always been a Muggle, Mum. It's not as if you can wish yourself magical!" Draco snorted and sat on the edge of her bed, since it was obvious she wasn't going to release him. Hermione shifted to the side, allowing him space beside her and he interlaced their fingers, feeling her mounting frustration.

"No Mum, I already told you. I've been through with that Ron fellow for years. I don't care if you want grandchildren. Because he's an idiot that's why. No, I don't think I'm better than anyone but I'm not marrying an idiot no matter how much you liked him. You do realise he's magical. Everyone has a flaw? Really? Yes I still live with Harry. No I'm definitely not sleeping with him that's disgusting. I suppose he could be considered an attractive fellow, but…Mum. You've got to stop. There's absolutely no chance between Harry and I. Alright fine, there's as much chance of me and Harry as there is of you and Uncle John. Yes, I am aware he's your brother that's exactly my point. Now you know how I feel. I don't need a man to take care of me, I take care of myself. I have money thank you very much. It's not a ridiculous Foundation, it's very important to me and…" Draco was completely in tune with the level of Hermione's ire and decided he'd heard enough. It was obvious her mother was a difficult woman and he no longer wished to witness her discomfort. He pushed golden waves from her shoulder and bit her earlobe until her voice became breathy.

"N-no, Mum, I-I have to go. Nothing's wrong! I ju…"

"Love, come back to bed." Draco smirked while unfurling her fingers, gently pulling the phone from her ear as her mother's screeches reached a crescendo. He pushed the round red spot on the screen, hoping red meant stop and Hermione's mother was gone.

"I can't believe you did that." Hermione didn't know whether to laugh, cry or be furious. She'd never hung up on her mother before. She knew she still hadn't, but her mother didn't. Her innards began to churn at the thought of holding another conversation with her mother and she fell back into the feather pillows with a groan.

"I'm not apologising." He could hear her heart thudding rapidly and lifted his head to peer into her bewildered eyes.

Hermione choked, still unaccustomed to seeing his eyes black as pitch, laced with palpable desire. She was lost in the stormy sea of conflicting perturbation. He concluded she was just as conflicted as he and was no longer able to resist the allure of her parted lips.

He was hesitant, nervous even, as he lightly touched his lips to hers, exploring the texture and taste as they gradually parted. He was achingly attentive to the beats of her heart, the intensity of her breaths and the wavering resolution he could sense. He did not press her further, keeping the kisses chaste yet heartfelt, ignoring the plaguing desire to consume her. Finally, Hermione turned her head from him, their breaths harsh in the silence.

"I still don't know what to make of this." Her voice was shaky at best and she detested the burning flush across her cheeks.

"I'm completely enamored and I don't even know how it happened. I went to sleep the eve of my birthday and woke in the middle of the night craving something I couldn't even begin to understand." Draco was unable to resist the draw of her. He had valiantly fought it for so long, now that she was within his clutches, the very idea of releasing her was physically painful.

"I was of the opinion all Veela happened upon their mates upon coming of age." Hermione studied his profile, pretending he didn't set her skin on fire with every glance and every touch.

"My parents were of the same belief, hence why they neglected to inform me of my heritage. It would have been lovely to have been informed prior to the dreams…" Draco pushed himself upright and took it upon himself to pour her a cup of tea. He swirled the honey into the delicate china cup moments before squeezing a quarter wedge of lemon and passing her the cup and saucer.

Hermione's toffee eyes widened in disbelief, yet she took the offered tea and sipped it just the same.

"Try not to think too poorly of me, I know it's probably difficult, but try. I've been studying you from afar. I needed to be sure. Apolline was brought to the Manor and she's helped immensely no matter how much I fought her in the beginning. I was not quite taken with the idea of…" Draco paused to rub his temples realising how difficult it was explaining himself to her.

"With me, it's alright Malfoy. I'm not offended or anything. Frankly, I expected as much. It's not as if we've been lifelong friends or anything. You detested me and I wasn't much better. At least you're being honest, I appreciate that. I find it much easier to blame your Veela heritage than to think Draco Malfoy suddenly fell in love with me." Hermione laughed lightly while avoiding his probing gaze.

"I learned something very important, life altering really, from Apolline. I am my Veela and my Veela is me. There aren't any differentiating lines between the two. It's one and the same. I fought against it in the beginning, but soon I learned it was better to accept it, to accept all of it. It was a battle of course. I'm a stubborn man and I've always been. My heart pines for you. My dreams are filled with you. I couldn't escape you if I tried, and I don't want too. I'm not asking you to declare your undying love and devotion. I'm asking you to try." The delicate china rattled with the tremors of her fingers and Draco deftly removed the offending tea cup with ease.

"Malfoy, what of your parents? I mean I'm a Mudblood. It doesn't bother me, but…"

"Granger, if it were truly such an issue for me, do you think I would have pursued you? Do you think I would have donated hundreds of thousands of galleons to your Foundation? Do you think I would have managed to procure that ridiculously rundown building and renovated it for your orphanage? I don't bloody care what my parents think. No, don't interrupt.

'I'm not going to tell you I never believed what my father said because I did. I'm not going to tell you I didn't want to become a Death Eater because I did. I didn't understand all it entailed but I wanted to please my father and all he ever asked of me was to follow his Master so I did. I couldn't do anything _He_ wished me to do and I was branded a coward and I don't care. I don't regret not being capable of murder. There's nothing cowardly about that. It was ingrained in me to detest everyone whom my father deemed less than us.

'When I was a small child, my father was teaching me about wizards who weren't as magical, weren't as special, weren't as brilliant as we are, which is ridiculous, but that's neither here nor there. His favourite pastime was discussing the legacy of Salazar Slytherin and how it impugned his honour to allow Mudbloods into Hogwarts since they hadn't the right to a magical education. His words, not mine.

'I was playing in the garden and fell into my mother's prize rose bushes. My arms and legs were filled with scratches and thorns. It began to rain and I slipped on the way to the Manor into a great puddle. When I managed to get up I was covered in mud and I cried. My father beat me senseless of course, Malfoys don't cry, but he didn't understand. I wasn't hurt, not really, if at all. I had gotten mud into my cuts and scrapes and because I was a small child I truly believed I had become a Mudblood.

'I know now that's ridiculous, but I was a child. I didn't know any better and my father wasn't about to explain it to me. He used it to his advantage telling me he could perform special magic which would keep me pure as long as I was obedient. I'm not even going to tell you how old I was before I learned he was a lying bastard. It's quite embarrassing. I've seen you bleed Granger and I hated it before I ever knew about my heritage." Hermione's head spun with this newfound and highly personal information.

"What do you want then?" Her voice was exceedingly small, even to her own ears, but he heard her as if she had shouted.

Draco Malfoy was her anonymous benefactor. He was the wizard who had sent her letters, gifts and donations which had bolstered her ability to keep her Foundation running. She had never expected it to be him. She thought perhaps some old dodgy wizard with nothing better to do with his time and money, or perhaps a witch sympathetic to her cause. When she had received the first owl, she had the flitting thought it was Harry or even Ron, but the elegance in words quickly dismissed that thought, as did their laughter upon being asked.

"You." He interrupted her thoughts with a simple word and a cool hand against her cheek. "I just…want you. I was terrified you would reject me and I'd be sentenced to a life half lived but now that you're here? I couldn't ask for anything more."

Hermione took notice of the vulnerability blatantly present in the grey orbs penetrating her soul and allowed herself to feel his tender emotions. She could have easily blamed it on The Meeting of Magic and dismissed the gravitation, but she couldn't, not anymore. Now that she'd not only seen but felt the depth of him in a single gaze, a tender brush of his knuckles along her jaw, it was impossible to deny him anything. Hermione supposed that was the point of the first step, to make her crave him as much as he desired her and to her chagrin, it was working.

Instead of analyzing every iota of information until she could form a logical conclusion, Hermione thrust aside such notions and kissed him.


	9. Of Rituals & Obstacles

**AN: Alright my pretties, this fic is finally taking the shape I want it to take. I swear, it took long enough. **

**As always...enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Of Rituals &amp; Obstacles

* * *

Madame Apolline Delacour walked slow circles around the nervous witch, scrutinizing her from head to toe. She refrained from crinkling her nose in distaste while examining the dry, frizzy curls. It was quite indisputable Draco had chosen the clothing which draped around her slight form. Apolline had spent many a morning observing Hermione Granger from afar and while she was renowned for her knowledge, her fashion sense had consistently left something to be desired.

"Have you considered a straightening potion?" Apolline softly inquired. She didn't wish to alienate the girl, but if she was going to be presented to Lucius and Nariccsa Malfoy, something drastic would need to be done.

"I've tried a few different beauty products yet they were all so time consuming, I never kept up the regime." Hermione did not wilt under the calculating eye, which Apolline respected.

"I have managed to secure an appointment with Felipe. He is my personal hairdresser. He will work magic with the mangled cat adorned upon your head, not to worry. We shall not alter you overly much, but Ms. Granger even you must admit something must be done."

"I was always more concerned with my intellectual merit than my appearance." Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, reining in her temper and her stomach flipped, filled with anxiety.

Apolline's lips pursed while observing the frazzled witch. She hadn't known it was possible for Hermione's hair to frizz further until that moment. The young witch fluttered on the tips of her toes, almost as if she were going to take flight. The fingers on her left hand stroked the corner of her parted lips and Apolline could hear the rapid pounding of her heart and then she understood.

"My dear, might I suggest we sit? It might ease his upset. He's worried for you and if you continue channeling his fear, it won't be but a moment before…"

Apolline sighed. There was no use speaking to the girl. She was incapable of hearing a single word. Draco burst through the door and their eyes locked. It was strange to see their interactions. Apolline had never had the pleasure of observing true Veela Rituals. Narcissa had claimed Lucius immediately and while she had been called upon to help the young Veela control her emotions, it was not the same as seeing Draco and Hermione interact.

"I-I'm sorry." Hermione didn't have a reason for her apology, only that it felt right in that moment.

Draco approached her slowly and she knew he was doing his best to control his needs. He grazed her bare arm with his palm while walking passed her and the tension ebbed. He handed Apolline the crumpled letter, his teeth gnashing in fury. He snarled, a menacing growl slipping through his carefully maintained rage before he bit back the desire to rip his father limb from limb.

"The nerve of that man! I don't know how Narcissa puts up with him." Apolline didn't waste her breath further as Draco and Hermione were ignoring her very existence. She wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if Draco managed to cajole Hermione into allowing him to Mark her by the time she arrived at Malfoy Manor.

"I need you." Apolline heard Draco's desperate plea while slipping out to confront Lucius.

"What's wrong with me?" Hermione panted, her head lolling back while insistent lips caused the gooseflesh peppering her skin.

"The Ritual, we didn't complete the steps. The longer we wait, the more unbearable it becomes until our restraint is nonexistent." He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse; thoroughly pleased she was not protesting and nudged her toward his bedroom.

Hermione allowed him to push her blouse off her shoulders, dropping it on the hardwood floor while he backed her into his room and locked the door.

* * *

Lucius realised he detested the Veela heritage more than anything. It wasn't that he didn't love his wife, quite honestly, he adored her. It all boiled down to the matter of choices. He hadn't had the whisper of a choice when Narcissa dragged him into his dorm and Marked him. He hadn't minded having a volatile gorgeous witch strip him of his school robes and have her way with him. He hadn't hated her as much as he'd made out. It was the Malfoy way to pester those they found most interesting and as the memory brought a smile to his face, he froze.

Lucius Malfoy then realised his son had always sought to enflame the Muggle-born witch, just as he had needled Narcissa in the days when he was an enamored boy. He sighed while he paced, his shoulders finally slumping. He conceded his defeat while pouring a tumbler of his finest firewhiskey. It was easy for him to flounce in his favourite armchair without Narcissa present to berate him for his lack of class.

He spent a moment actually contemplating Hermione Granger while completely dismissing her less than pure blood. It didn't take him long to decide the Veela Magic had chosen well, though it irked him to admit such a thing. While his family reputation amongst the other purebloods was no longer an issue, he couldn't help but remain slightly perturbed. He was well aware his wife had spent many an hour volunteering her time at the Foundation for Wayward Witches &amp; Wizards and while he was capable of exuding the slightest bit of sympathy for the less fortunate, Lucius still deemed it beneath him to assist in any manner.

If he had been anyone else, he would have felt a twinge of regret upon scrawling the hastily written owl to his son. However, being the arrogant, pompous wizard Lucius Malfoy had always prided himself on being, he felt only anger. He couldn't be sure whether the anger was directed toward his son or himself, but it didn't matter. Lucius assumed and rightly so, it would only be a matter of time before his son, his wife or even that infuriating Delacour woman burst into the Manor to disrupt his angst.

He heard the quick clipping of heels upon the pristine marble floors before he heard the grating voice or felt the reverberation of the door slamming into the wall. Lucius had a slight urge to check his pocket watch yet he refrained, if only due to the fact he did not wish to be hexed for any sudden movements.

"Ah yes, Ms. Delacour, of course it would be you." His lip twitched with discontent and yet he nonchalantly crossed the foyer floor and led her to his study. "I'm assuming you've decided to grace me with your presence due to the communiqué I sent Draco?"

Lucius offered Apolline a flute of champagne and to his surprise she easily accepted before bracing herself on the edge of an upholstered armchair. Her thin lips were pressed together while she studied the organized chaos of his mahogany desk. He sat across from her lazily, pouring himself another tumbler of firewhiskey from a crystal decanter and waited.

"I've been patient, Lucius." Apolline closed her eyes and drew a slow breath. "Surely you must consider your son. Do you honestly believe Narcissa's parents would have chosen you if such a choice had lain in their hands? It is well known Abraxas more than dabbled in the Dark Arts and as much as the Blacks revered your fallen Lord, they wished better for her. They knew of her magical beginnings and while Cygnus was adamantly against taking her in, he acquiesced to his wife. Why do you think that was?"

Lucius Malfoy curled his lip with obvious derision. He'd never been on good terms with his in-laws and detested allowing them even a passing thought. He vaguely recalled Cygnus Black's multiple sneers whenever Narcissa's heritage was mentioned and sighed.

"Cygnus Black was a deplorable man, however it cannot be said he did not love his wife. He adored Dru. She was heartbroken when their only son was lost. Finding Narcissa was the best thing that ever happened to her and Cygnus was not about to ruin her happiness. He declared Narcissa pureblood due to her heritage and no one was willing to dispute him." Lucius sipped the amber liquid reveling in the slight burn.

"Does your son not warrant the same happiness?" Apolline's fingernail tapped her champagne flute while she waited for the disgruntled wizard to answer.

"She's a Mud-Muggle-born." The words sounded weak to even his ears and he couldn't imagine how they sounded to Apolline Delacour.

"She's a brilliant witch, Lucius. She was first in her year at Hogwarts, not even Draco can boast such things. She was instrumental in aiding Harry Potter to bring down your Lord…"

"Stop saying that." Lucius hissed.

"How would you like me to refer to him Lucius? He most certainly was not my Lord."

"I do not wish to be reminded of my misdeeds."

"Regardless, the witch in question spoke for you and yours before the Wizengamot if I'm not mistaken. He loves her Lucius. Threatening the girl's life will only alienate you from your only child."

"He…loves her?" Lucius gagged at the thought, "I admit I was rash and quite furious, truth be told, but I simply cannot welcome that witch into my home."

"No one is asking you too. I can't imagine a single scenario where Hermione Granger would willingly step foot into Malfoy Manor." Apolline placed her champagne flute on the edge of the dark wood table and left the Manor without another word.

Lucius sat in the silence, begrudgingly ruminating on the French Witch's words with much difficulty. As much as Lucius loved his wife and son, it was quite a difficult pill to swallow upon realising the pureblood Malfoy line would end with his son.

"I suppose it could be worse." Lucius shuddered with revulsion as visions of Daphne Greengrass draped around his son invaded his peace of mind.

* * *

"This is insanity, we can't…I mean…" Insistent soft lips slanting across her own smothered Hermione's words.

It would have been easy to allow herself to succumb to the sensations. Her skin was hot, even with the cool sheets beneath her. Most of her clothing had been removed, reducing her to recline upon Draco's four-poster bed in her unmentionables. Internally she fought between shoving him away and yanking him closer, her hands constantly hovering just above his button down shirt.

"Why?" Draco murmured just against her earlobe, smirking upon her shiver.

"Malfoy, please." Hermione pressed her palms flat against his covered chest while he hovered over her until he sighed.

Draco Malfoy rolled his black eyes and flopped beside her, placing his hand on her bare stomach simply for the sake of contact. He was hard pressed to keep his control. He knew if it weren't for Apolline, he would have ravished Hermione already and appeased the burning desires of his flesh. He also knew she would never forgive him for such actions, and that pained him more than he was willing to admit.

"You're killing me Granger." Draco groaned drawing perfect figure eights on her bare skin.

It was easy to distract her with a brush against her breasts or even the elastic of her knickers, but Draco didn't want to trick her. He could feel her trepidation as easily as he could feel his want. He supposed she'd bore him with the details of their complete lack of relationship while attempting to dissuade him from pursuing her further. Little did she know, it was absolutely impossible.

He knew her better than she knew herself. Draco supposed he'd always known her more than he wished to if only due to the fact he'd kept a keen eye on Potter and she was always there. It had taken him years to come to terms with the fact she wasn't 'less' when it came to magic. In fact, Hermione Granger excelled where even purebloods had fallen. Even his father couldn't refute that, as much as it would pain him.

"It's just…Malfoy, you have to admit these circumstances are a bit ridiculous. You can't expect me to just fall into bed with you. I barely know you." Hermione's fingertips walked across the cool sheets in order to drag a coverlet over her semi-nude form and Draco groaned.

"I knew you were going to say that Granger." Draco rolled onto his side and studied the furrow of her brow.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she felt him pressed against her side. His long fingers danced along the lace edge of her knickers before dropping to her thigh. Her first instinct was to shove his hand away. She'd never been touched so intimately by anyone before, and it was quite nerve wracking to tell the truth. Hermione reached down to remove his hand as it stroked lightly from her knee to the bottom edge of her knickers but he grasped her hand and maneuvered it so her palm was pressed firmly against the bulge in his slacks.

"I want you to feel what you do to me, Granger." Draco leaned forward to whisper in her ear, nipping her earlobe quickly before teasing the corner of her lips.

"T-this is wrong on so many levels Malfoy. I mean, think of your father and…and…" Hermione shimmied her hand from between them, blushing furiously.

"Granger, you talk too much, you think too much." Draco gripped her hip, pulling her toward him until there was nary a space between them.

"It's what I do, Malfoy. You can't expect me to just say oh isn't this lovely? Draco Malfoy the boy who has detested my very existence is magically completely enamored with me and I suppose I'll let him shag me." Hermione struggled lightly, but the pull was too much for her to resist.

"Do you have any idea how easy it would be to Mark you right now?" Draco kissed her throat, sucking hard on her pulse point until Hermione shuddered against him.

"Please…please don't. I'm not ready. I know you want me to be, but I'm just not." Hermione bit her lip to keep from moaning.

Draco had slipped an arm beneath her head, and allowed the other to stray from her back to the curve of her bum to keep her close. He fisted her curls and lightly pulled her head back until he was staring into her wide eyes. Hermione's swollen lips parted when he slid his thigh between hers, grazing the apex of her knickers and he smirked before kissing her.

"Tell me it doesn't feel good and I'll stop." Draco managed a hoarse whisper against her throat when he was able to tear his lips from hers.

"Y-you don't play fair."

"Of course I don't my sweet. I'm a Malfoy and a Malfoy always gets exactly what he wants." With an easy flick of his fingers, Hermione gasped upon feeling her bra undone.

"This is madness." Draco could feel her constraint waning and while he was pleased, he was also conflicted.

He didn't relish the idea of Hermione regretting their actions later and Draco knew she would. As much as it pained him, he knew he would not be able to Consummate their relationship until she was ready. He hoped to Merlin he wouldn't have to wait his entire existence, but his witch was exceedingly stubborn.

"I want you to stay with me Granger, right here in this bed, every night until we no longer draw breath. I've never wanted that before with anyone. I want to wake every morning with your ridiculous hair in my mouth and your delectable breasts against my chest. I want to argue with you and watch your eyes flash in anger. I want to touch you where you've never been touched and I want to hear you moan my name. I know you're not ready. It's bloody killing me because my body is screaming for yours, but I shan't utilise the Binding Mark on you until you are. However, there are other delicious things I could do…" Draco let the sentence hang in the air, watching her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

He had no intention of pushing her beyond her limits, but he was filled with such a need it was barely containable. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of simply forgetting to inform Hermione there were other Marks involved. Draco supposed he could settle for one of the three if he was forced to do so. He grappled for a moment and decided against it. His Slytherin nature was seething, but knowing Hermione as he did, she would not forgive him easily, and he couldn't live with that.

"You wouldn't Mark me? Would you be able to stand it? From what I've read, it takes an exorbitant amount of control in order to…" Draco covered Hermione's mouth his hand and rolled his grey eyes.

"There are three Marks. A Mark to bind, a Mark for fidelity, which is more for your protection than anything and a Mark for…well for, well that bit doesn't matter really, it's something we would discuss when the time was right and that obviously isn't now." Draco cleared his throat noisily while avoiding the probing golden brown eyes.

"The books never mentioned multiple Marks. Of course there aren't very many texts on the topic, but I've read quite a few of them considering my interest in Magical Creatures and…"

"Granger, not everything is found between the pages of old books. I honestly wasn't aware until Apolline informed me. I thought there was just the one. The others aren't necessary to complete The Ritual but they can be used to…elongate the time period so the compulsion is well, I can't say lessened but perhaps it's not quite as intense? I'm not quite sure actually and Apolline didn't have any further information."

Apparently, it was ridiculously easy to distract Hermione Granger when providing her with new information. Draco Malfoy easily pulled her leg over his and grasped the back of her thigh. While she was chewing her lip, he allowed his fingers to dance over the lace of her knickers until finally he slipped it between their bodies and toyed with the bottom edge of her bra. With nimble fingers, he grazed her breast with his knuckles as her brows furrows. Hermione was deep in concentration, ruminating the validity of the Veela information Draco had so readily supplied when she gasped.

"Malfoy you can't just distract me and then feel me up." Hermione protested yet she lightly arched into the large hand stroking across hardened rose tips.

"Don't think, just feel." Draco gently pushed Hermione onto her back, his lips never leaving her throat while his hand slipped the strap of her bra down her arm.

Logically, Hermione knew eventually she would succumb. What choice did she have really? She was drawn to him and he conjured feelings in her she was almost certain never existed in the first place. Hermione had never considered falling in love, marrying, bearing children, as she was completely devoted to her work. The idea that she would never have to flounder through uncomfortable first dates and ill-timed kisses were a definite advantage. However, at the same time, Hermione didn't relish the idea of her choices being stripped from her, though she supposed Draco Malfoy felt much the same.

She was vaguely aware of Draco removing her bra and his hands gently studying her lightly freckled skin, closely followed by warm lips. Hermione didn't know how to stop thinking, though the longer she allowed herself to be in his arms, the easier it was to simply feel. The moment she dug her fingers into his shoulders, Draco growled and pulled her on top of him.

He shrugged out of his shirt, groaning the moment their bare chests touched. He forced Hermione to sit up, ignoring the blazing red blush on her cheeks. She immediately moved to cover her breasts, which only caused Draco to choke back a groan. Her tiny hands flattening her ample breasts were more than he could bear. With eyes black as pitch, Draco sat up and crushed Hermione to him.

He kissed her hard and unforgiving, consuming her until she could barely breathe. Hermione's hands slowly dropped from her breasts, tentatively encircling his neck, her mind finally blank. Draco dug into her hips, frustrated with the lace of her knickers. He tore them off without another thought and held her close.

Carefully, so as not to frighten her, Draco laid Hermione on her back and brushed her unruly hair from her face. Hermione was struck by the inner turmoil obvious in his darkened eyes. With shaking fingers, she touched his cheek and swore she heard him purr as he leaned into her.

"What happens after?" Hermione's voice shook and Draco couldn't help but to kiss her lips lightly.

With his forehead pressed against hers, carefully bracing his weight on his arm, he placed his free hand over her heart. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he languidly held her breast, lightly rolling the rose peak between his thumb and forefinger until she gasped. Draco pretended he wasn't aware of her clenching her thighs together and the quickening of her heart as he worked his way down her ribs, to the curve of her hip.

"The Mark of Fidelity is an old Magical protection for Veela mates." Draco murmured against Hermione's jaw before nibbling her earlobe. "Centuries ago, Veela mates were taken, most of them raped and murdered in order to end the line."

Hermione gasped, her honeyed eyes widening, though whether it was from the horror of a deeply hidden secret in the Magical World, or the long fingers stroking her thighs, she wasn't quite sure. Part of her still wished to protest, yet the decidedly feminine side of her wanted to bask in the sensations. Hermione jumped, inadvertently spreading her thighs slightly when he brushed the back of her knee.

"W-what does it do?" Draco kneaded her supple thighs, slowly working his way toward his goal, sensing her arousal.

"It's much like the bracelet you wear. It keeps wizards with undesirable intentions from touching you the way I'm touching you." Hermione whimpered, her mouth dropping open, her eyes fluttering shut upon feeling his fingers swipe across her most private of areas.

Draco gently investigated her moist folds with his heart in his throat. The fear of rejection was ever present, despite Hermione's compliance thus far. Carefully he spread her thighs further apart, listening to the varying pitch of her pants before venturing forward. Hermione moaned loudly, her eyes still tightly closed and he couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief when her hips flexed into his palm.

It was easy to maneuver her across the bed, allowing her knees to dangle off the side. Draco smirked at Hermione's gasping protest upon the loss of his warmth. Her golden lashes fluttered and her eyes opened in shock. He stood between her thighs, unceremoniously dropping his slacks to the floor. While he wished nothing more than to shag her until neither of them could move, he removed them to ease the ache more than anything else.

"Draco?" His cock twitched hearing his name spill from her swollen lips.

Without considering the consequences of his actions, Draco immediately climbed onto her, covering her body with his own. His pulse was instantly erratic, his breaths a throaty growl more than anything else. Before Hermione could blink, her arms were pinned over her head. He was struggling and she could sense it and while she didn't wish to exacerbate a delicate situation, Hermione could feel his arousal grazing the apex of her thighs and it made her crave more.

"Don't move, sweet. I can't be held accountable for my actions if you move." Hermione held her breath, watching Draco's dark eyes close and his controlled breathing, slightly nervous.

"You won't hurt me?" She worried the corner of her lip, resisting the urge to squirm.

"Oh Granger, my inquisitive little Gryffindor, I could never hurt you." Draco curled his lips over his fangs while nuzzling her ear.

"I-I read it hurts…" Hermione's eyes fell closed once more as she was lulled by the sensation of Draco's large hands splaying across her exposed skin.

She felt his hands on her knees and her body missed the warmth of his against her. Draco slowly dragged her to the very edge of the bed, peppering the inside of her thighs with soft, sensual kisses. He exhaled lightly, intrigued by the shiver of her pink lips. He knew exactly where he would leave the Mark of Fidelity, deciding it was the lesser of two evils. It wouldn't cause her pain, of that much he was certain. He pondered for a moment, hoping it would bring her closer to him in heart as well as soul.

Draco wrapped his arm around her thigh, gently lavishing the area of his choosing with open-mouthed kisses. His other hand stroked her folds until Hermione's back arched and her legs quivered. Unable to resist the allure of her arousal, he dipped his tongue into her, slowly teasing her until Hermione fisted his pale hair, yanking hard. He easily uncovered her swollen, throbbing bundle of nerves and sucked hard, refusing to relent even as she cried out.

He replaced his tongue with his thumb, stroking furious circles while she fluttered around him and that is when he struck. He uncovered his fangs, digging his fingertips into her hip and sunk his teeth into her. Hermione writhed, the force of her orgasm crashing around her, feeling swirls of Magic course through her until it was hard for her to draw breath. Draco withdrew, licking the flecks of blood from her inner thigh, which instantly closed the double puncture wound, leaving the slight remnant of a scar in its wake. He climbed back up Hermione's body with a groan. His cock throbbed furiously in his boxers and he ached for a relief he could not ask of her.

Draco couldn't help but to flex his pelvis against hers, seeking the slightest relief. Hermione didn't help matters by rocking into him, her arms throw around his neck, desperately clutching his shoulders. Her breasts scraped across his chest and she wrapped her legs around his waist, rolling her hips against his impressive erection.

"Granger, if you don't behave I'm going to take you." Draco thrust forward, showing her exactly what would happen and the most deliciously wanton moan his ears had ever heard made his blood pound.

"Isn't that what you want?" Hermione leaned forward and capture his earlobe between her teeth, biting down hard.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman. Yes, yes it's what I bloody want. I want it so badly I can barely think, but that's not the point. Is it what you want?" Draco held her hips still, bruising her lips with his own, their tongues swirling together in a dance.

"Have you…have you done this…before?" Hermione's nails raked up and down his back in a tortuous frenzy, yet she froze when he shook his head. "I thought…I mean…"

"I'm not…going to lie, I've done things sure, but I've never…I couldn't. I didn't understand why until Apolline. I was waiting and I didn't even know it." Draco slowly climbed off his witch, instantly pulling her into his side.

"Waiting for what?" Hermione's brow furrowed in slight confusion, still reeling from the information that Draco Malfoy, rumoured Sex God of Slytherin was just as much of a virgin as she.

"You." He found the blush upon her cheeks absolutely endearing and Draco decided her hair wasn't nearly as horrible as he remembered when a child.

He quite enjoyed the way it bounced and curled around his fingertips. He was addicted to the sweet taste of her lips, which reminded him of honey. He had always considered himself quite the connoisseur of small breasts, but quite honestly, he preferred the way Hermione's pert breasts spilled over his large hands. He loved her inquisitive mind, which was ironic considering how much he had once detested it.

"I-I don't know what to say…" Hermione glanced down at their bodies so closely entwined and placed her palm on his ribs.

"Don't say anything, Granger. There's no need. I loved you long before I knew I did. I can only hope one day you'll return such affections."

"You love me?" The incredulous expression on her face would have been laughable if she weren't so serious.

"Yes Draco, do tell. I'm sure we're all waiting with bated breath." The lazy aristocratic drawl was easily recognisable and Hermione stiffened in Draco's arms, burying her face in his chest.

The growl that emanated from his chest would have frightened her if he weren't carefully wrapping his arms around her, covering her nudity with a caftan from the end of the bed.

Lucius Malfoy should have known it was a dangerous idea to venture to his son's home without an invitation. He should have known neither witch nor wizard should ever interrupt Veela with their mate. He should have known many things, but Lucius was always a selfish sort of wizard and didn't deem it worthy to contemplate that which didn't directly affect him.

He stumbled backward upon spying the pitch black of his son's eyes and the talons which curved his pale hands. Lucius gasped, wishing he had adhered to Apolline Delacour's advice and remained in the Manor. The guttural growl shook his very foundation and he sputtered while trying to formulate a coherent sentence before his heir completely rose from the bed and attacked.

"Draco, I mean no harm!" Lucius shouted, his pale eyes wide with shock.

Draco quirked his head, sniffing the air, tasting his father's fear and while he continued to shield Hermione with his body, he found his father's words to be true. Keeping careful eye on Lucius, Draco swept his mate from his bed, carefully covering every inch of exposed skin, he carried her into the washroom and set her on her feet. Draco forced her to look up at him despite the waves of embarrassment wafting from her person.

"Everything you could possibly need is at your disposal. I'll get rid of him." Hermione remained silent and Draco knew it would be a matter of moments before she was cursing herself. He kissed her forehead sweetly and hoped she would still be there when he returned.

Draco stalked from the washroom and quickly thrust his long legs into the pair of slacks he had discarded. He took a deep breath and ventured into his quaint sitting room with a snarl on his lips.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Draco spat, resisting the urge to grab his father by the lapel.

"Draco, are you not pleased to see me?" Lucius attempted a small smirk, which was lost in the low growl rumbling in his son's chest.

"After the missive you sent, you should be delighted you're in one piece. State your peace and please leave. You've interrupted something very important and if you weren't my father you would be dead." It did not miss Lucius Malfoy's attention his son stood guard before the bedchamber door and he sighed.

"I'm asking you to reconsider. It's not necessary to bind yourself to her now…" Lucius gulped as Draco shoved off the oak door and slowly stalked across the room. "I shan't do a thing to her! I've promised Apolline and Merlin knows that woman wasn't going to allow me to leave the Manor without a Vow."

For a moment, Draco couldn't help but to be amused by his father's demeanor. It wasn't often he could remember a time Lucius Malfoy, not only stuttered, but backed down from an imminent argument. Draco realised he could enjoy such moments, but now wasn't the time to entertain the thought. He had a witch to return to and a father to dispose of before his anger forced him to tear his father to bits.

"If you've taken a Vow or even a Wizard's Oath to do her no harm, than why would you wish me to delay the inevitable?"

"You can't expect me to come to terms with marring the Malfoy Family Line overnight Draco. I'm simply asking for a small period of time to pass so I may become accustomed to the idea." Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched his father's gaze flit about the room.

"You're lying. You've always been a terrible liar. Come out with it then." Draco was vaguely aware of water running and the intoxicating scent of fruit wafted from the washroom. He wished nothing more than for his father to disappear so he could join his witch, but alas, his father had other ideas.

"There have been threats." Lucius begrudgingly admitted, refusing to meet Draco's probing gaze.

"Threats? What sort of threats? Against whom? Against Granger? Is that what you're saying? You've received threats against Hermione because of what? Because of me?" Draco's hands shook slightly and he fought hard against his heritage.

"Yes."

"You've got to expound on that further, Father. What sort of threats against Granger?" Lucius was positive his son had not realised he had dropped into a crouch, his teeth bared with a fiery rage.

"Draco, the only sort we've ever taken seriously. Death of course."


	10. Of Vanishing & Death

**AN: I'm almost where I wish to be, which only means more frequent updates for you, but I wouldn't count on more than once a week. The response to this story is absolutely overwhelming. Thanks for taking this particular journey with me.**

**As always...enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Of Vanishing &amp; Death

* * *

Hermione Granger stood stock still in Draco Malfoy's washroom, clutching the sheet to her shivering body. She blinked quietly a few times trying to clear her head but it seemed impossible at the moment. The whisper of her own breathing was the only sound she could hear and it was easy to assume Draco had cast a Silencing Charm in order to shield her from his father's wrath.

"What was I thinking?" She finally muttered to herself while spinning the knobs on the shower.

She dropped the sheet to the floor and stepped into the steamy water, sighing in relief as the pulsating warmth eased the ache of her tense muscles. Hermione snatched one of the many bottles decorating the shelf and scrubbed her skin clean, her nose wrinkling at the decidedly floral and fruity notes. She didn't relish the idea of smelling like a fruit salad in a summer garden, but her options were limited.

Hermione inspected the small dual bruises on her inner thigh, blushing when she saw how close they were to her more intimate parts. She didn't feel the unwavering pull toward Draco and gave credit to her new mark. She was proud of herself for refusing to succumb to him, no matter how great the temptation, but she also felt as though she had deprived herself more than anything.

While scrubbing her body dry with one of the many plush towels, she frowned inspecting the partially used toiletries and couldn't help the suspicion that clouded her mind. It bothered Hermione more than she liked to admit that as much as Draco Malfoy had yearned for her, he was unable to resist the allure of another witch.

It was more than obvious the toiletries belonged to a witch with expensive taste, whereas she preferred less perfumed and more natural scents. Hermione didn't relish the idea of reeking like one of his conquests. It made her feel a bit dirty if she was being honest with herself.

"I can't stay here. I can't be here. I have to think. I can't do that here." Hermione mumbled to herself and wrenched her arm through one of Draco's dress shirts. She considered the possibility of scurrying down the hall to the blue bedroom, yet dismissed it. She didn't relish the idea of seeing Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione quickly buttoned the shirt, wondering as to Draco's reaction. She didn't think he'd mind much, though she didn't give him the chance to protest. She was more than aware of the furious murmurs coming through the door and didn't wish to interfere with a family matter. Instead, she snatched her wand from the bedside table, grateful she had brought it with her, and Disapparated.

Hermione landed on the steps of Grimmauld Place easily and quickly stepped through the door. The last thing she needed were the neighbours gossiping about considering she wasn't wearing more than a button down shirt. She tiptoed through the corridors grateful Harry wasn't about. She assumed he was at the Ministry, or at the very least still a slumber, regardless it didn't matter to her much.

She opened the creaking door of her small bedchamber and quickly ravished her closets, irked to discover her belongings missing. Hermione blinked hard, remembering with an angry hiss, Malfoy's house elf had relocated her things to his flat. With a huff of irritation, she ventured into Harry's bedchamber, hoping Luna had left something behind which wasn't reminiscent of a costume party.

"Hello Hermione." Luna's soft, whimsical sort of voice startled Hermione and she gulped, quickly closing her eyes.

"You can't be here!" Harry shouted, yet Hermione didn't hear the rapid scurrying about she expected, and the silence was almost deafening.

"I didn't expect you to be here, it was exceedingly quiet, and I was simply searching for something to wear." Hermione covered her eyes, doubling the protection against her friends' nudity.

"Oh we're just practicing a bit of Tantric sex. Harry is ridiculously impatient and while I enjoy a good tumble…"

"Luna…please." Harry pleaded and Hermione couldn't help but to imagine his face tightened with anxiety.

"Yes, please listen to Harry. I'd rather not know the intimate details of your sexual endeavors."

"Hermione Granger, ever efficient and seemingly prude, though I must say you've a certain glow about you. Is it safe to assume Draco Malfoy has plundered your…"

"For the love of Merlin, Luna!" Hermione peeked through her fingers to see Harry Potter covering his girlfriend's mouth, while she sat atop him.

"I need a pair of slacks or something. I wish to go to work this morning and it seems Malfoy has had my belongings relocated."

"I'd love to help you, really I would, but I Flooed over without a stitch, well, besides this hair ribbon. Simply tie it about your waist and you'll look lovely."

Hermione grumbled, yet did as Luna asked. She detested the idea of wandering about wearing nothing more than Malfoy's green shirt and Luna's white lacy hair ribbon, but it was better than being completely starkers. She was disgruntled with herself for not dressing before vacating Malfoy's flat, but there wasn't much choice in the matter if she wished to avoid Lucius Malfoy.

"You can't be here, Hermione. You know I love you. You're the sister I never had and always wanted, but if Malfoy finds you here and us as we are, well…"

"Yes, yes I'm aware. He'll rip you limb from limb actually and…" Hermione froze upon hearing loud thumps upon the front door and muted shouts. "Sorry, I've got to run."

Hermione spin quickly, grateful Harry had always allowed Apparition within Grimmauld Place and disappeared. Moments later, Harry's bedchamber door burst open and an animalistic Draco Malfoy growled loud and long, while black talons splintered the door jamb. Harry's mouth gaped open and words failed him.

"She's not here. You just missed her in fact. If I were you, I'd go to the Foundation and hope she's found something more appropriate to wear than your lovely green button down." Luna waved at the livid Veela and rocked slowly against Harry's floundering erection.

* * *

"Now, now Draco, remember I'm your father!" Lucius Malfoy skirted the sofa and the side tables, feeling the slightest bit safer knowing there were obstacles between his person and his son.

"Who?" Draco's loud exhales filled the room, his chest heaving while he held a tentative grasp on his heritage.

"I-I don't know. It's why I've come to beg you to prolong the inevitable. I thought, perhaps, with the right resources, I could uncover the culprit."

"Lies."

"Fine! It's not the entire reason and I freely admit it. I do not wish to see my only son completely soiled by a…by her and I'm utterly powerless to do a bloody thing to stop it." Lucius suddenly felt constricted by his shirt and pulled at the collar, aching for the slightest bit of freedom.

"Delaying the inevitable will not protect her. In fact, it will surreptitiously place her directly in the line of fire. Whomsoever wishes to dispose of her, wishes irrevocable harm to me as well, or has that tidbit of information surpassed you?" It was obvious his son had calmed, and Lucius sneered as the telltale sounds of water and feminine scents drifted into the room.

"You are my son, my only son. My first and foremost responsibility lies with you. I'm sure Apolline is more than well versed in the ways of your unfortunate heritage. I can assure you, your mother and I would do whatever is necessary in order to protect you should some accident befall your presumed…mate." Lucius knew he was walking a fine line, but he wasn't one to curtail his opinions due to their unsavory nature.

"Presumed mate? How dare you. If you weren't my father…" Draco snarled, his teeth snapping dangerously as he began to pace the space. "I've spent a year, father, a year with visions of her in my head. She infuriates me as much as she intrigues me. I hate her as much as I love her…"

"Love, you're but a child, what could you possibly know of _love_?" Lucius scoffed, ignoring the glint of warning in his son's ever-changing eyes.

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF IT?!" Draco bellowed, his limbs quivering while he sucked harsh breaths through his teeth. "The Dark Lord? Is THAT your idea of love, Father? Allowing my sadistic aunt to use me as nothing more than a plaything, is _that_ your idea of love? Perhaps, it was sacrificing your only child, your heir, as you so eloquently refer to me when it suits you, to your Dark Lord. Perhaps it was the punishment rained down upon me for failing to murder as you have murdered. I don't know about you, Father, but none of that reeks of love to me." In his fit of anger, Draco upended the intricately carved coffee table, hurtling it into the wall above his father's head.

"I do not wish you caught between your life and her. These threats reek of Slytherin behaviours and…"

"If anything happens to her…if she dies, I'll follow soon after. I won't attempt to live a life without her." Draco chokes on the words, his heart thumping erratically with even the thought of harm befalling her.

"Draco, you're being unreasonable." Lucius squeaked in alarm as it seemed Draco had silently traversed the splinters of wreckage and dug his wand into the supple neck of his father.

"You shall not look at her. You shall not speak to her. You shall not even glance in her direction or I shall not hesitate to end you." The low throaty, yet feral growl caused Lucius to nod slightly, as he did not doubt the validity of his son's words. "Leave my home and never return."

"Draco…" Lucius whispered even as the gently curved wood twisted in his skin, "no matter what you think of me, I'm still your father."

Draco shoved his father, none too gently toward the door, keeping his wand trained on the man who had taught him such hatred, and snarled.

"She is my life."

* * *

Hermione Granger was ever so thankful her Foundation was free of prying eyes as she hurried into her office. She hadn't spent nearly the amount of time exploring as she had wished, but from the reports stacked on her desk, the children were thrilled. She sighed while sifting through the reports, slightly saddened she had missed their arrival.

She had never imagined her dreams coming to fruition and felt marginally conflicted knowing it was all due to the efforts of Draco Malfoy. Hermione gingerly sat in the ridiculously comfortable high-backed chair near her opulent desk and buried her head in her arms. She didn't cry or even lament her circumstances, she simply concentrated on the darkness behind her eyelids.

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione smiled within the confines of her arms, listening to the familiar tap of impatient toes on the marble floor.

"Thinking."

"I don't know why I even bothered to ask. You're Hermione Granger, of course you're hiding here, bloody thinking instead of lying flat on your back with…"

"Pansy…" Pansy Parkinson rolled her eyes and flounced into the chair across from the obviously conflicted witch.

"Fine, I won't even comment about the deliciously romantic way Draco snatched you away. Instead, I'll focus on the influx of children. We're going to need to order more cots and supplies already. The older children have already overflowed their dormitories and the tots are well on their way to the same. It would also behoove you to hire more staff, unless of course you've altered your opinion in terms of house elves." Pansy inspected her fingernails, easily ignoring the outraged glances flashing in her direction.

"I haven't seen anything more than the foyer and this office. You can't expect me to make these decisions without knowing…well anything really."

"Come on then, I'll give you a quick tour and then decisions need to be made. I can't be expected to work under such conditions." Pansy fluffed out the skirts of her royal blue gown as she stood, once more impatiently tapping her heeled toes.

Hermione dutifully stood to follow the witch before remembering her attire. She tugged the ends of Draco's shirt, wishing it were longer and even adjusted the wide lace cloth tied at her waist. She avoided Pansy's probing dark eyes as they ascended the wide staircase leading toward the children's dormitories.

"It's naptime for the tots and if you wake them, I'll Avada you."

"I'd rather you didn't, Parkinson." Hermione clutched Pansy's hand to steady herself before glancing up to look into the stormy eyes she'd left behind. Pansy remained silent, studying the pair with curiosity.

Hermione inhaled and exhaled shakily, valiantly attempting to steady her frayed nerves and avoided him. Draco Malfoy stood near the windows, casually gazing upon the object of his affection. It soothed his raucous soul to be near her, but nothing compared to the feel of her against his side. His ire had faded upon discovering her whereabouts, which was for the best.

Every ounce of his self-control was stretched to the limits of his constraint, as he kept his feet firmly planted. He swore it was a subtle form of torture to watch her smile softly, with a maternal sort of glow he had never witnessed in his own mother, while she traversed the cots of slumbering small children. The ache in his heart as he perceived the longing in her eyes, almost caused his knees to buckle with the intensity of it all.

"Mummy?" A sniffling girl with loose, tangled blonde curls, sat up in her cot, her bright hazel eyes searching the large room for her mother.

His grey eyes followed Hermione as she practically ran across the marble floor to scoop the child into her arms. She carried the girl to one of the many window seats, bouncing the girl lightly, in order to stop her muffled cries. Hermione sat on the blue gingham furthest from him, Draco noted with a wry grin.

"It's alright honey, you're safe here." Hermione smoothed the girl's curls, slowly rocking her to and fro.

"Mummy go?" The bright-eyed child spoke around her thumb, silent tears dripping down her cheeks, mixed with a fair amount of bogies.

"Pansy, I-I…" Hermione was overcome with emotion, wishing she had the perfect words to ease the girl's upset, but she was at a loss.

"Don't look at me, I don't know what to tell her. I don't even like children." Pansy's upturned nose crinkled and she quickly vacated the dormitory.

"Give her here, Granger." Hermione blinked, surprised to see Draco crouched beside her, carefully wiping down the girl's face with an embroidered handkerchief. He didn't wait for her to answer, instead plucking the girl from Hermione's arms.

"Malfoy, I…" Hermione was not accustomed to feeling completely inept and yet as she observed him slowly swaying to and fro, she did.

"Hello, little one. Can you tell me your name?"

"Nova." The poor girl hiccupped, resolutely sucking her thumb as she blinked up at the tall man carrying her.

"That's a lovely name. Are you hungry?" It was easy to assume the little one was voracious as she continuously sucked and even bit her finger.

"Want Mummy." Draco's palm continued its exploration of her back by way of slow, small circles, which aided in calming her.

"I know you do, honey. I would give her to you if I could, but your mummy had to go away. I'm sure she didn't want to and I'm positive she loved you very, very much. This nice woman here is going to take wonderful care of you, I promise." Nova twisted her head and looked to Hermione with the slightest trace of distrust before returning her attentions to Draco.

"Pwomiss?" Nova slapped her chubby hands against Draco's cheeks and Hermione was positive he was going to snarl in revulsion, but he didn't. He flinched and dropped his forehead to hers ever so slowly.

"I promise." Draco walked Nova to her cot, laying her gently in the bottom before covering her with one of the many soft yellow blankets his money had provided.

"Y-you're very good with her."

"Granger, you've simply got to hire more help." He easily ignored her observations, not wishing to see her emotional upheaval. "Pansy obviously doesn't know the first thing when it comes to children, nor does she wish to learn. McLaggen, well I can't imagine him being particularly soothing, which leaves you." Draco gazed down at the now sleeping Nova and stroked her damp curls with a gentle hand.

"I wouldn't allow McLaggen near the children for all the galleons in the world. He's been delegated to raising funds only. Pansy tells me he has a gift for charming witches and wizards out of their galleons. I know I can't do this alone, I didn't think so many children would be sent here. McGonagell said to expect a dozen, but by the looks of it…" Hermione gestured to the dormitory cots, each filled with a child and sighed.

"I know you're staunchly against the use of house elves, however, unbeknownst to you, there are many house elves who require employment. Either they've grown old or their families were displeased with their services and set them out. They'd be perfectly happy with a warm corner and a fire. Think of this way, you'd be helping more than the children and that was always your wish anyway." Draco looked for Hermione, expecting her to still be perched in the window seat, when a plumage of unruly hair accosted him.

Hermione had crossed the floor quickly and soundlessly, before launching into Draco's arms. He remained still, barely breathing as her soft body crashed into his. Her arms crossed behind his neck moments before her lips struck his. She hadn't intended the action to be sexual in nature, yet Draco's uniqueness was the least of her concerns at the moment. Hermione quickly regained her senses, finally realising he hadn't moved an inch.

"I'm sorry," She extricated herself as carefully as possible, not wishing to see his eyes darken, nor his talons emerge. "It's simply, no one has ever…been the least bit interested in…"

"Granger, come here." Hermione absorbed the soft-spoken words and took yet another step backwards. "I seem to recall being regaled with a bit of gossip revolving around you and one particular Weasley…" Draco smirked, his senses achingly alert.

"It was a long time ago." Hermione rotated on her bare feet, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to inspect the garden.

"You stole my shirt." With the stealth of a Slytherin, he snuck up behind her, immediately placing his hands on her shoulders, gently stroking the sides of her neck.

Draco's hand was lost in her hair. He twisted it into a makeshift semblance of chaos, deftly using the pearl encrusted hairpin to secure it. His hands dropped back to her shoulders, squeezing tightly. He wished to remind the flustered witch to breathe, as it seemed she had forgotten, but he refrained. He wished to toy with her for a moment longer.

"I heard you and your father. It sounded quite heated and…"

"And your little Gryffindor mind ran away with you, completely over analyzing everything that had happened. Instead of attempting to speak with me about your concerns, you stole my shirt and ran away. So much for Gryffindor courage, eh Granger?" He suspected it would raise her ire sufficiently and he wasn't disappointed.

Hermione jerked away from him, her dark eyes blazing with a fire he was quite familiar. Draco easily caught her arcing hard as it moved to strike him. He captured her about the waist, carefully keeping his hand on the indentation of her waist, rather than slipping beneath his shirt to stroke her supple skin.

"Let me go." He was highly amused by level of ire in her soft voice and leered at her plump lips, wishing to taste them.

"No, I don't think I will." She struggled, just as he suspected she might, but he refused to lessen his hold.

Draco knew she wouldn't shout, for fear of waking the tots and her options were quite limited. She groaned a fair bit, but not the sort that would happen to cause his slacks to tighten. He simply waited, patient as ever, for her to succumb. Finally, Hermione lowered her head to his chest, her breaths quick and raspy and he smiled.

"You're quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?" Hermione mumbled into Draco's crisp, white button down, thoroughly disgruntled.

"I was, when I was firmly lodged between your thighs. My father has a tendency to ruin the memorable moments in my life." Draco kissed the top of her head, knowing her cheeks were ablaze.

"You can't say things like that here. There are children here and they…"

"Are sleeping, Granger. They're sleeping, though I suspect the older children are awake, but considering they're all the way down the corridor, I doubt they're capable of hearing quite this far."

"It's a matter of propriety." Hermione relaxed in the safety of his arms and his slow breaths quickly became soft purrs.

"Propriety Granger? You're wearing nothing more than my shirt in bare feet, don't preach to me about propriety. I can't say I disapprove of your attire, however it does make me wish I had thought to include a small flat within your Foundation."

"You really have a one track mind, don't you? Is shagging all you think about?" Draco paused for a moment as one of his hands strayed below what was technically his shirt, gently stroking a tantalizing thigh. Achingly slow, he drew her leg over his thigh and kissed her throat.

"My thoughts are filled with you. I've dreamt of you. I've daydreamed of our children. I've valiantly struggled against…well everything and it was all for naught. I can no longer close my eyes and think of anything other than you. Apolline believes such compulsions will lessen once I Mark you as mine, but honestly, the Mark of Fidelity hasn't seemed to do much other than fuel my fire for you." Hermione's brain was suddenly fuzzy.

It seemed every touch was amplified and while she was filled with trepidation, Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to last much longer. There was a fire in her veins, almost as if her body was betraying her, longing for him. He was barely touching her really, and yet it felt as if he were everywhere. Her head lolled against his chest and while she was more than aware Draco's fangs had made an appearance, they no longer frightened her.

She knew he wasn't about to Consummate their relationship in the midst of the Nursery, therefore it was effortless to allow his lips to suckle her neck. His chest hummed beneath her fingertips and the sound was soothing the last remnants of her anxiety. Hermione sighed, frustrated with his persistence and her obstinance.

"I can feel you. I know you want me, why won't you let me Mark you? Do you have any idea the protection it would provide?" Draco's low timbre caused her to shiver, though his body against hers was quite warm.

"I don't want to be property. I don't want to lose everything I am. I want to remain independent. I've always prided myself on my ability to care for myself. Not to mention, I don't want you to be disappointed, and grow to despise me upon discovering I can't give you what you wish." Her heavy sigh was almost endearing, if it wasn't laced with emotional anguish.

"What do you think I could possibly desire more than you?" Hermione lowered her raised leg to the ground and managed to extricate herself from Draco's imposing arms before she sat on the window seat.

She gazed over the heads of sleeping tots, her luminous eyes flitting between the babes and Draco, unsure how to continue. She'd been aware for years of her inability to procreate. It had taken her over a year to come to terms with the fact, as she'd always wished for a child of her own and then she'd pushed it aside in favour of the children who had lost much more than she.

Her fingers grazed the jeweled bracelet decorating her wrist and she studied the stones, silently kicking herself for not delving into them further. Ginny's previous words concerning the gems reverberated and she gasped while stroking the bloodstone. It was the most prominent gem, directly in the center. She would know, as she had dutifully counted every stone.

"D-did you do this?" Hermione lifted her wrist, spinning the bracelet round and round.

"I chose the stones yes. I know their purposes. As for the rest, blame your magic, I suppose. I would propose speaking with Apolline. She's quite knowledgeable in these matters and her plethora of information might appease your resistive mind." Hermione's first instinct was to lash out at him, but the half smile on Draco's lips ceased every remote feeling of anger.

"Take me to her?"


	11. Of Fury & Tears

**AN: Alright then, I suppose it's safe to say this story is finally taking proper shape. I'm completely over editing this chapter, so the mistakes can just suck it at this point.**

**As always...enjoy! *kisses***

* * *

Of Fury and Tears

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was never the sort of witch to belie her breeding, despite the humble circumstances of her birth. She knew the Wizarding community was quick to judge, and therefore, had easily retained her heritage as a well-kept secret. Of course, the Ministry was aware, as was necessary, yet the few students within the corridors of Hogwarts who had happened to observe her hasty transformation, had been Obliviated, for the sake of safety.

There were still prejudices concerning the unknown and while she believed they should no longer exist, it didn't change the inherent fact, they did. Narcissa was aware her birth parents were magical creatures, yet she thought little of them and their desire to protect her. Fact of the matter is, they abandoned her, and while she'd had a tumultuous upbringing by a respected pureblood family, it didn't change her feelings on the matter.

She knew she should have delved headlong into the lessons offered by Apolline Delacour, and thrust upon her by her parents, but she was rebellious. Narcissa had simply wished to be a witch and the idea that she was nothing of the sort really, chafed her to no end. Yes, she had magical abilities and revered her wand, but when compared to her sisters?

Narcissa sighed, resisting the urge to grind her teeth together until they were nothing more than powder. She listened to the roaring sound of the Floo and the clipped footsteps echoing through the long corridor and continued to stare into her rose garden. The last thing she wished were guests in her current frame of mind.

"Mother?" Draco Malfoy could sense his mother's unease, more from years of living with her than anything else.

"Draco! I wasn't expecting you. Is Hermione with you?" Narcissa hurried from her window seat to embrace her son, holding him a mite longer than necessary.

"No, I didn't bring her. I couldn't bring her…here, not with…it doesn't matter really. I assumed Apolline would be here. Granger has some questions." Draco's fingers raked through his hair, as was his custom when riddled with anxiety.

"Apolline is indisposed with your father. He required specialised care after I…needless to say, you've quite the grip on your temper, whereas I…" Narcissa pursed her lips, unable to formulate coherent thought.

"You demonstrated in front of Father?" Draco's grey eyes were large with shock.

He'd never guessed his mother was even capable of displaying her seemingly dormant Veela tendencies. He'd never seen her transform and could only imagine the sheer terror. Draco was more than grateful his personal transformation had been minimal at best and shuddered.

"I was angry."

"Angrier than when Father allowed Voldemort to reside in our home?" Narcissa sniffed, her blue eyes darkening significantly.

"Your father did what he believed to be best in order to protect his family, to protect you. Threatening my only son's lifeline is something else altogether. When he returned and informed me of the dispatches he had received, well, you can imagine my ire was raised more than a bit. I suppose you could say your father was in the vicinity when my wings made their appearance. He was clipped by the wing tip and I sent for Apolline immediately. I'm simply beside myself."

Narcissa expected her son to shout at her a bit, imagine her surprise when Draco did nothing of the sort. Instead, he burst into a short fit of laughter, overcome with the imagery of his mother sprouting wings and his father recoiling in terror. He quickly wiped his eyes and embraced his mother, to ease her angst.

"That's bloody brilliant. I wish I had been here to see it. Would you come then? I don't want to leave Granger trapped in her own mind for long, she seems prone to disappearing." Draco sobered quickly, the feelings of loss nearly crippling him.

"Disappear? Draco…"

"She was overwhelmed. You have to admit there's a wealth of information and she wouldn't be Granger if she didn't overthink it a fair bit. Not to mention, Father's untimely arrival." Draco growled deeply, the sound echoing in his chest, as he recalled the interruption.

"Yes, your father was quite pleased with himself, for at least a moment." Narcissa's deep blue eyes darkened to a murky black, her teeth gnashing together, while she attempted to control her thin grasp on her displeasure.

"Perhaps it would be best to wait until Apolline has concluded tending Father." The last thing Draco wished was for Hermione to be in the presence of his furious Veela mother.

Narcissa shook her head quickly, clearing her mind. Her darkened eyes returned to pools of blue, her jaw unclenched and she seemed to be in perfect form. Draco was surprised to say the least, considering she hadn't received the same training as he.

"I'm perfectly fine. Let us go now, before your father emerges." Narcissa grasped her son's elbow and led him directly to the Floo before he could utter a word in contradiction.

* * *

Pansy Parkinson was almost thankful her boyfriend had hidden her wand. She brushed her wet black bangs off her forehead and growled, causing the older children to scatter and the younger ones to cry. She wasn't cut out to be a childcare giver and she didn't want to be.

She stomped down the wide marble stairs, ignoring the bits of bodily fluids which dripped from the folds of her skirt. She pretended she was incapable of hearing Ron Weasley's titters and Cormac McLaggen's downright guffaws. Pansy held her head high and glided toward the employee showers.

"Little bastards think it's funny do they now? Oh look, there's Pansy, lets vomit on her shoes, might as well have a wee while I'm there as well. Disgusting." She peeled off her favourite blue skirt and tossed it directly into the bin.

Ron hurried in after her, but he knew better than to speak. He had learned quickly it was best to leave Pansy to her own devices when she was furious. Pansy reminded him of Hermione at times, but it was mostly due to her temper. She was a sensitive witch and he always felt a bit out of sorts when he was with her.

"Pans?" Ron called, hoping she wouldn't shout at him, yet he heard nothing besides the fall of water against the tile. He listened carefully and heard the first break of a sob and ran from the room.

He ran straight into Hermione's office and rummaged through her drawers. He knew she'd be furious, but this was an emergency. He shouted with glee upon discovering fresh parchment and quills. Ron scribbled a quite note and clutching it to his chest, he rushed toward Cormac.

"Owl, need a few. Now." Ron's voice rasped and he held onto the corner of Cormac's desk while catching his breath.

"You've a penchant for dramatics. I can't imagine anything being so desperately important." Cormac sniffed with disdain and returned to the stack of files before him.

"Pansy's crying."

"Why didn't you say so?!" Cormac shoved his chair backward, ignoring the clatter as it fell and dragged Ron toward the Foundation's modest owlry. "Use them all! Do whatever you need to do. I'll head to Diagon Alley." Cormac's blond hair bounced and Ron nodded steadily.

Ron stabbed the parchment with his hand, multiplying the letter before hastily tying them to the owls outstretched legs. He silently pleaded with the owls to hurry as he was positive they were all in mortal danger without the necessary supplies. He prayed to Merlin he had been fast enough, and with a deep breath, he slowly walked back toward the employee showers.

Pansy Parkinson sat on the tiled floor of the shower, wracked with silent sobs. She was exceedingly overwhelmed and there was no one to tell. She couldn't share with Ron the way children made her feel completely inept. She couldn't tell anyone she had stumbled across Daphne Greengrass near Diagon Alley and been hexed from afar. She couldn't tell her friends, new and old, the reason she was terrorised was due to her formulated friendships with Gryffindors.

They might be all she had, but she was definitely not all they had. They would resent her and declare her dramatic and probably a bit mad. Pansy knew she would lose everything and she hadn't much. She hugged her arms around her legs and lowered her head as the hot water permeated her aching muscles.

Her shoulders shook and as the warm tears streamed down her cheeks, she heard the tell tale sounds of Ron Weasley's tentative footsteps. She quaked, her magic suddenly unstable and the faucets shuddered and creaked.

"It's alright Pans. Come on then, let me dry you off." Ron's hand trembled slightly, but he managed to turn off the taps.

Pansy didn't move a muscle, even when gentle hands stroked a warm fluffy towel down her arms. She felt them move through her hair and down her legs, her sobs stifled by her teeth firmly embedded in her lips. She keened into her knees as the gentle strokes returned to her hair, lifting and patting and the tenderness was almost her undoing.

"I-I can't." Pansy whispered, her swollen lips barely moving.

"You don't have to." Ron quickly kissed her temple, hoping reinforcements would arrive soon.

* * *

Cormac McLaggen ran, bloody ran to the Leaky Cauldron and demanded Tom provide him with half a dozen bottles of firewhiskey. He shrunk the bottles, quickly jamming them into the pockets of his wizarding robes and scurried to Fortescue's, of course, it was called something else now, but no one bothered to learn it.

He practically threw the galleons across the counter and demanded the largest containers they had, filled to the brim with vanilla bean ice cream. By this point, Cormac was drenched in sweat, his lip curled as he always did detest being the least bit sticky. He groaned, willing the nervous shopkeeper to move her arse and soon enough was on his way.

"McLaggen!" Ginny Weasley emerged from Slug &amp; Jiggers Apothecary and hurried toward him, pretending she didn't hear her heart hammering in her chest.

"I haven't the time to chat with you Ginevra, I'm on a mission." Cormac's eyes seemed to have a mind of their own and perused her frame, lingering on her chest.

"I've got the Essence of Lavender. Zabini's gone out to The Three Broomsticks to get the fish and chips. I'm hoping Hermione and Malfoy have received their owls, otherwise we're right fucked." Ginny couldn't help but to appreciate the tall wizard's form, casually tossing her long red hair over her shoulder.

"I'm actually quite surprised you're on the list, considering you're not particularly close friends with Parkinson." Cormac offered his arm with a slow wink and while Ginny took it, she couldn't say she trusted him.

"You're such an arse." The volatile witch hissed, but he noticed she didn't remove herself from his person, which left him with a bit of hope.

"You never complained before." Cormac leaned down, whispering against her ear, smiling when she shivered.

Ginny did her best to ignore him, silently shouting at her resolve to hold. It wasn't as if she was in love with the bloke, or in love with anyone for that matter. She knew her and Blaise were just having a bit of fun and neither was truly invested in the relationship, but she refused to repeat her previous mistakes.

Ginny didn't regret her liaison with Cormac McLaggen, but she regretted cheating on Harry. She hadn't intended to hurt him, but had allowed her hormones to rule over her. It had taken months for Harry to even look at her, and that had hurt more than anything. She couldn't risk her friendship again, especially for a quick tumble without a future.

"Stop it. I'm with Blaise."

"You honestly believe he's being true to you? Come now, Ginevra, I know you're a bit young, but I never thought you were naïve." Cormac smiled smugly when she blushed and knew the battle was almost won. His eyes dropped to the curve of her bum, wishing her skirt wasn't the flirty sort and instead hugged the curves he craved.

"Stop looking at me like that." Ginny spoke through her teeth, jabbing her elbow into his ribs.

Cormac snarled and dragged her into the chilly little courtyard just in front of The Leaky Cauldron. He shoved her roughly into the corner, flattening her chest against the stone. Ginny wasn't afraid of him, but she had always disliked being at a distinct disadvantage.

"You like the way I look at you, dirty little witch. I'm sure your thighs are pressed tightly together at the simple thought of being stripped naked and fucked right against this wall." Cormac's towering frame shielded Ginny in the event of prying eyes and he chuckled darkly.

"Get off me."

"You don't really want me too. You're simply fighting against the inevitable."

"What inevitable is that then?" Her haughty tone didn't fool either of them and her tenacity was quickly weakening.

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and the cool late afternoon air whispered against the backs of her exposed thighs. Cormac gripped a toned pale thigh in his large hand and held still. He was tempted, greatly tempted in fact to shag her right then, but he preferred to tempt her until she came to him.

"Do you miss your punishments?" Ginny shook her head, gently scraping her face against the stone.

"Liar." Cormac reared back before swatting her delectable arse cheeks. "Shall I inspect your knickers?" Ginny shook her head, her nipples hardening, her breaths laboured.

Cormac's ego definitely didn't need anymore inflating, but Ginny's reaction puffed him up quite a bit. Without warning, he swatted her bum again, slightly harder and damned if she didn't smother a moan. Cormac grabbed a fistful of silky red strands and yanked, until Ginny didn't have a choice but to lift her head from the cool stone.

He no longer offered her options, instead reaching into her lace knickers, gently caressing her hot skin. He heard them tear and was positive she had as well, but Ginny remained silent. He appreciated that about her. She knew when to show desire and she knew when to remain silent. Fact of the matter, Ginevra Weasley had been his favourite companion, and Cormac McLaggen refused to even entertain the idea of releasing her.

He dipped into the cleft of her bum, smirking as she hissed. Cormac touched her with such a feather light caress, Ginny knew he was torturing her on purpose. Her torn knickers were dripping and he wasn't making it any easier on her. Using his fingers, Cormac dipped into her, achingly slow and withdrew just as slowly, until Ginny's breath caught in her throat.

Ginny was practically salivating, her lips open, eyes closed tight, her hair still fisted in Cormac's hand, but she no longer cared. She was chasing the tightening in her abdomen, the throbbing between her legs. He easily found the delicious jewel at the apex of her thighs, spinning circles, until Ginny's knees were fit to give out.

"I believe that's enough, Ginevra. After all, you didn't hesitate to tell me you are with Blaise." Cormac released Ginny's hair and with a gentle pat to her bum, turned on his heel, Disapparating.

* * *

Hermione paced Draco's flat, still resolutely refusing to call it 'theirs'. She worried about her children and Pansy. She knew Pansy wasn't fond of children, but Hermione believed if she had simply assigned the witch to paperwork, she would flourish at the Foundation. She fervently hoped they weren't making things difficult for the brunette witch, when the owl flapped anxiously at the window.

Hermione hurried to untie the parchment and feed the tawny owl some treats when Draco and Narcissa burst through the door. She deciphered Ron's haphazard scrawl, gasping in horror. Draco immediately snatched the letter from her hand, one arm anchoring her to his side.

"Bollocks. Pansy's having an episode."

"Oh dear, poor girl. Hermione you really should consider employing more help. I know you're adamantly against house elves and while I can't begin to understand, I respect your decision…" Narcissa's hands fluttered as they did when she was anxious, and Draco offered a small half smile.

"Actually, Malfoy has suggested utilising older elves who have been dismissed and unable to procure employment." Hermione gnawed her lip, silently hoping Ron had remembered everything Pansy required during one of her 'episodes'.

She gasped and ran to her closet in the blue room, thrusting aside her tweed skirts and jackets until she came across a selection of Muggle clothing. She frowned, discarding nearly everything until she spied the bureau against the furthest wall. Hermione wrenched open the drawers and sighed in relief.

Nestled in the bottom drawer was specific clothing Hermione had set aside for Pansy. Pansy wasn't the sort of witch who would blatantly wander about the Wizarding World in Muggle clothing, however when she was at her worst, they soothed her. She chose a pair of heather grey lounge pants and a long sleeve green top before slamming the drawer closed.

"I've got to bring these to her, they help." Hermione unconsciously stroked one of the many stones decorating her bracelet, willing her nerves to settle.

"I do believe Rosie would be most helpful. If I'm not mistaken, Draco, she has quite a number of family members who are in dire need of employment. Don't stare at me with your mouth agape. It's not as if I conversed with her, I merely overhead the elves chattering away in the kitchens." Narcissa's dark blonde eyebrows rose, daring her son to refute her words.

"Mother, are you capable of lowering yourself to speak with Rosie? I believe it would be best if the elves were sent immediately. Merlin knows Pansy isn't equipped to deal with children." Draco never took his eyes off Hermione, inhaling deeply and wishing nothing more than to shag her against the wall, but they had more pressing matters at the moment.

"I'm quite capable of speaking with house elves, Draco Malfoy. You watch your tone. Hermione dear, tend to Pansy and we'll speak when the dust has settled." Narcissa air kissed her son and his lifeline before stepping into the corridor to Apparate.

Hermione swallowed hard as the tension between them noticeably thickened after Narcissa Malfoy's departure. She could feel a hum in the air and when she glanced up, Hermione realised it was stemming from Draco. His fingers were in her hair, his nose buried deep in her thicket of curls.

"Do you remember when I found you in the rain?" Draco whispered against her throbbing pulse, his fingers itching to undress her.

"Y-yes, if it wasn't for your mother, I doubt I would have allowed you such liberties." Hermione chanted_, logic over emotion_, knowing she desperately needed to speak with Apolline in order to set her mind at ease.

"And what did my interfering mother have to say?" Hermione felt Luna's scrap of lace loosen around her waist and her knees trembled.

"S-she told me to keep an open mind."

"Smart woman my mother." Draco abruptly dragged Hermione to his bedroom and she was more than prepared to argue with him.

He casually tossed open the double doors leading to his closet and thrust her inside. Hermione's jaw dropped as her eyes perused the extensive wardrobe. She noticed it was a medley of Muggle and Wizard clothing, presumably purchased for her.

"Granger, we've got to see to Pansy. For the love of Merlin, wear something appropriate, otherwise I can't guarantee we'd ever leave my bedchamber." With a small growl of irritation, Draco spun on his heel, leaving Hermione to dress.

When she emerged, he truly believed he was fit to burst. His eyes narrowed dangerously, which had Hermione rethinking her choice. Honestly, she thought it amusing, but now she wasn't sure.

"Should I change?" While Hermione wasn't one to apologise often, she also didn't wish to make things more difficult for him.

"Don't even think of it. You did this on purpose. I can see it in your eyes, you little minx. Come on then, off to your Foundation." Draco's eyes darkened slightly, but he quickly reined in the temptation, willing his talons to remain in place, though his fangs pricked his bottom lip.

"I thought you'd appreciate the irony." Hermione's short green dress swished as she walked passed him, knowing his eyes were boring into her bum and stopped near the door. "Are you coming?"

"Not yet." Draco growled, wishing he had never purchased the Slytherin green dress.

* * *

"Uhm, I didn't quite know what to do. The tots are screaming and Merlin, there's a load of bogies. The older children are fighting amongst themselves so I locked them in. I found a list of witches in Hermione's desk and sent an owl to them. Hopefully they'll be willing to help and sort out her monsters." Harry Potter was out of his element.

While he had barely been equipped to deal with Voldemort, children were beyond his area of expertise. He'd actually considered Flooing Andromeda, but knowing some sort of cold besieged the tots, he didn't believe she'd wish to expose Teddy. He was jittery and it was setting everyone on edge, but they had enough class to remain silent.

He ignored Cormac McLaggen. It wasn't because the man had shagged his girlfriend at the time, it was simple because he didn't like the bloke, never had. Harry was polite when the situation called for it, which wasn't often. He supposed Pansy's episode was a good enough reason to maintain civility as the bloke did scurry about Diagon Alley.

Cormac sat at his desk, his spine ramrod straight, refusing to even glance in Harry's direction. He'd always been of the opinion The Boy Who Lived was completely overrated but then Voldemort was gone and his opinion was no longer heard by anyone.

He couldn't help but to allow his light green eyes to flicker toward Ginny, who was pointedly ignoring him. Ginny sat in one of the armchairs nearest the window, surrounded by a ridiculous overgrowth of green. She could feel Cormac's eyes on her, but the throbbing between her legs dictated she pretended he didn't exist.

"Harry James Potter!"

"Oh shit." Harry cringed, listening to the familiar sounds of Hermione Granger's shoes clipping across the tiled floors and held his breath.

"If you're going to lock my children in their dormitories, then the least you could do is lock the windows as well. Cormac, please take Nathaniel and Josiah back to their section as I imagine there are quite a few boys willing to leap to their freedom as well." Hermione shoved two disgruntled dark haired boys toward the imposing blond wizard, with the authority of an angry mother.

"They bloody jumped?" Harry was vaguely impressed with the boys until Hermione smacked him about the head.

"No Harry, they used magic and you're going to escort them to the hearing for the Misuse of Underage Magic and explain how the entire situation is your fault." Hermione crossed her arms, angrily blowing tufts of curly brown hair off her forehead while tapping her toes.

"Me, but that's ridiculous! It's not my…" Harry swallowed hard as a terrifying growl drowned out his words. "Uhm of course, absolutely. In fact now that you're here I believe I'll go directly back to the Ministry and speak with Shacklebolt." Harry nodded quickly and hurried toward the door without a backward glance.

"Well, now that that's settled. Malfoy, would you see if you could settle the children? I'll be up as soon as I can, I'd like to see to Pansy first." Draco pouted prettily, Hermione had to admit, but as she was shorthanded, there was little choice in the matter.

"I'd much rather snog you in the storage closet." He murmured, aware of the effect his velvety voice had on her and enjoying it.

"I'll snog you later, at your flat, in bed even, but please do this for me. Before you even ask, no, you cannot Mark me. I need to speak with Apolline and your mother first." Her voice wavered, but Draco knew her words were true and he couldn't ask for anything more. She was trying, but his small grasp on the raging magic coursing through his veins, demanding he do whatever is necessary to make her his was slowly winning the battle.

"Where do you want us?" Hermione blinked numerous times, staring at three witches she'd never expected to see.

The curly haired moppet of a golden blonde witch smiled broadly, her deep brown eyes sparkling with mischief, as was her nature. She ignored Hermione's gaping mouth and bunched her tight ringlets into some semblance of a bun. She casually removed her pale yellow robes and rolled up the long sleeves of her cream smock top.

"Harry sent us an owl. He said you were in dire straits. Why didn't you tell us your Foundation was up and running? You know we would have come post-haste. It's good thing we were free, your hands must be ridiculously full, but then again, you are Hermione Granger and you wouldn't be you if you didn't think you could do everything on your own. You haven't any house elves either, what did I tell you Mandy? You owe me 10 galleons." Megan Jones adjusted her square purple spectacles and smiled broadly.

Draco Malfoy's lip twitched, easily recognising the witch as a Hufflepuff. She blatantly sported her house colours, from the yellow of her robes to the black of her apron. He was slightly surprised to see her prepared to do actual hard labour as if she were a Muggle, but considering she was obviously a friend of Granger's, his surprise quickly waned. He was unfamiliar with the other two witches, curious, but not enough to actually speak to them. His attention was attuned to Hermione Granger and he wasn't about to alter it for anyone.

The quiet chestnut haired witch rolled her brilliant blue eyes and removed coins from the pocket of her skirt, thrusting them into Megan's hand. She smiled softly at Hermione, her eyes immediately straying toward the stairs. It seemed the noise of the children drew her attention and from her stance, she wished to see to them immediately.

"I-I don't know what to say…" Hermione continued to blink slowly and Draco could sense she was overwhelmed.

He casually stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She stiffened, yet once his chin touched her shoulder and his nose nuzzle her ear, Hermione relaxed. He inhaled deeply and hummed against her throat. Hermione's petite fingers stroked the backs of his hands as he felt her tension ebb.

"Say thank you Granger, and set them to work."

"I'm not good at this part." Hermione whispered, distracted by the sobbing whimpers stemming from the employee bath.

"Alright," Draco straightened his physique and stepped forward, commanding their attention. "I'm Draco Malfoy and I don't have the slightest clue who any of you are but that is beside the point. You're friends of Granger's and since Potter took it upon himself to send for reinforcements, we're not going to turn you away. Any questions you have regarding our…unorthodox relationship will be answered after the children have been tended."

"Megan Jones. Amanda Brocklehurst, but you can call her Mandy, everyone does. Sally-Anne Perks. We know who you are Draco Malfoy, but Harry warned us you were Hermione's benefactor, so you can't be all bad." The graceful blonde adjusted her spectacles and did not smile.

"Delightful. I would suggest one of you tend the older children, one the tots and one see to the kitchens as I'm sure they require a meal. I expect house elves will be arriving sporadically and knowing them, they'll immediately take over the kitchens. The tots have some sort of vile illness. Their bodily functions are ridiculous, however I've taken the liberty of stocking the storeroom with various Potions. Use them as necessary." Draco eyed the witches as warily as they eyed him and it seemed as though they had an unspoken conversation.

"How long will you need us?" The breathy whisper stemmed from the strawberry blonde, Draco assumed was Sally-Anne Perks.

"Granger requires a permanent staff. It's ludicrous to think she can care for a dozen children with only Pansy Parkinson and bloody Cormac McLaggen. If you're capable, willing and do not have an aversion to children, I'm sure we can arrive at an acceptable arrangement to please all parties. Make no mistake, you will be well compensated from funds which are separate from Granger's Foundation for Wayward Witches and Wizards." Draco turned to Hermione and she smiled softly, unwilling to argue their salaries at the present moment, but the look in her eye suggested they would revisit the subject forthwith.

The three witches glanced at Hermione and then each other as Draco waited, most impatiently. He ignored their less than subtle whispers in favour of perusing his witch. He appreciated the long lines of her neck, the jut of her chin and even the smatterings of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She really was divine and he couldn't help but to wonder what would have become of them if his heritage had never come to light.

"We accept." The chestnut brunette offered a small smile, pointedly directed at Hermione, which suited him just fine.

* * *

Ronald Weasley breathed a sigh of relief when he finally managed to wrap an entire towel around Pansy's shaking form. Her lips were blue and her teeth were chattering, which worried him, but his wand was out of reach. She refused to relinquish her hold, clutching his arms desperately and he wasn't about to complain.

"I can't help if you refuse to speak Pansy. I'm definitely not a mind reader. I mean, I wish I were sometimes, but then I wonder what sorts of things I'd overhear. I wouldn't want to listen to my mum think about my dad in the buff for example and…" Pansy snorted, used to his rambling and grateful for it.

She hadn't had an episode in quite awhile and besides her unfortunate confrontation with Daphne Greengrass, Pansy couldn't pinpoint what brought it on in the first place. Sure, she was constantly wracked with guilt for her actions during the War, but she suspected most witches and wizards were. She also supposed they were much better equipped to deal with it than she, considering they still had their families.

"Ohhh Pans…" Hermione removed her shoes, her bare feet slapping in the cool water gathered on the floor, and crouched beside the barely recognisable witch.

"I'm s-sorry. Really I am, pl-please don't fire me…" Pansy hiccupped, her dark lashes dripping tears, and Hermione thought her heart would break.

"Pansy, you're not just an employee, you're my friend. I didn't expect you to deal with runny noses and vomit. I'd never fire my friend, which is exactly why I refused to hire Ron. He'd teach all the children terrible things." Hermione smoothed Pansy's damp hair, pausing to glower at Ron.

Using her wand, Hermione cast a small Warming Charm and magically dried Pansy's hair. The pale blue tint of the witch's lips immediately dissipated and she sighed while the warmth permeated her chilled bones. She grasped Pansy's elbows and forced the witch to stand.

"We've all brought you things. You'll feel better once you're dressed." Draco and Ron viewed Hermione leading Pansy away and looked at each other with distaste.

"I don't like you Malfoy."

"You're breaking my heart Weasel, whatever shall I do now?" Draco's drawl grated Ron's nerves, but he was determined to keep his temper under wraps, no matter how tempting it was to hex the bastard.

"Look Ferret, this is important. I don't want to be speaking to you anymore than you want me too. At least we can agree on that much. It's about Pansy." Ron growled, thankful his wand was just out of reach.

"What about her then?" Draco grit his teeth, exhaling in a hiss while casually leaning against the doorjamb.

"She hasn't got parents any longer. She doesn't like to speak about it and I'm not going to force her or anything, but I know you lot were mates in school. Pansy's often compared you, Zabini and herself to me, Harry and Hermione." Ron yanked on his maroon sweater, quickly wiping his sweaty palms on his Muggle denims.

"Is there a point to this?" Draco yawned, patting his mouth, entirely bored with what passed for a conversation.

"Yeah, I mean, you're her family. Zabini is too, but that bastard isn't here, and I don't want to wait much longer. I mean, I've been waiting and its just time ya know?" Ron twisted his hands and while Draco was sorely tempted to make him sweat it out a bit longer, he decided Granger wouldn't appreciate it much.

"Go on then." Draco's hand waved with a slight flourish of encouragement.

"I want your permission," Ron grimaced as the word slid through his lips, "to marry Pansy."


	12. Of Questions & Answers

**Disclaimer: Any and all recognisable works belong to JK Rowling (i.e. snippets from her Harry Potter works)**

**AN: We're getting there...promise ;)**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Questions and Answers

* * *

Lucius Malfoy had never been afraid of his wife. He had always had a healthy respect for her Veela magic, but it had always been a periphery to his own greatness. He was well aware he was pompous, and some would consider him a difficult wizard, but Lucius simply considered such things part of his charm.

Through all their years together, he had never seen his wife in a true fit of rage. He'd never witnessed her wings or anything more than darkened eyes and the barest hint of talons. He'd always been impressed with her dedication to their family and her astounding control when faced with adversity.

However, as he now lay abed, Lucius couldn't help the tremble in his pale hands. His silver eyes widened whenever he happened to hearken a wayward thud in the corridor. He tried to close his eyes, but visions of his wife haunted him.

"_Lucius!" He was apt to ignore the uncustomary screech of his wife, but considering he had paid his son a most unwelcome visit, Lucius decided it was in his best interest to hide._

_He vacated his study quickly, leaving his tumbler of firewhiskey behind, and made his way to the West Wing of Malfoy Manor. Lucius knew it was his safest recourse. They hadn't spent much time in the West Wing since the War and he assumed it was the last place his irate wife would think to look for him._

_It seems Lucius had forgotten his wife's gifts. He rarely thought of them and had never even thought to ask a single question, let alone read a book on the matter. He smirked with delight as the echo of slamming doors was far from his current location._

_He sighed in relief upon reaching the top of the staircase, only to gasp in horror. He clutched at his chest, blinking his eyes rapidly. A deep, low growl stemming from the end of the corridor, caused his heart to leap into his throat. Lucius had half a mind to retreat, yet his feet refused to obey._

_Narcissa Malfoy glowered at her husband, her eyes wide, and obsidian black. Her perfectly manicured nails were elongated into sharp black talons. Even her skin had lost its perfectly pale sheen and darkened to a musky grey. She bared her teeth, snapping with rage as she sucked the venom between her sharp fangs._

"_Cissa, even you must admit he should be aware of the threats against…" The deep growl segued into a screech and she barreled down the narrow corridor, her features elongating._

_Lucius Malfoy shouted, pleading with an elf, any elf to remove him from the situation he'd landed himself. Of course, they didn't respond and he was forced to literally run down the staircase, skipping as many steps as possible without falling. He jumped the last three steps and was in a full out run before his knees had adjusted to the stone._

_He cringed, ducking his head, pale blond hair flying as he heard the sounds of heirloom vases crashing to the ground. Lucius removed his wizarding robes as they continuously tangled in his legs. It was the rending of cloth that caused him to skid to a stop, moments before he crashed into the floral wallpaper lining Narcissa's private sitting room._

_He covered his head with his arms and his screams resembled that of an adolescent girl. Lucius glanced quickly at the Veela once resembling his wife and his jaw dropped open. It seemed her robes had split down the back as great grey wings unfolded, transforming his beautiful wife into a formidable opponent._

_He couldn't be sure if the wings were covered in fine feathers or gray scales, but they were terrifying just the same. Narcissa's hair was stark white, streaked with grey, her beautiful eyes were the size of galleons, sparkling in the low light. Her red lips were thinned to almost nothing, and he couldn't help but to compare it to a beak._

_Lucius shuddered and weighed his options. He was quite honestly torn. He wished nothing more than to flee, but he valued his life. He was vaguely aware of a woman's voice calling for his wife, his head whipping to the side, which was his error._

_Narcissa, the furious Veela, unfurled her wings completely, grazing the walls on either side. She viewed the cowering man before her as nothing more than prey. He had threatened the livelihood, the life of her son and it superseded any emotion she held toward him as her mate. _

_The moment he adjusted his position in the corner, she flinched forward, causing her wings to set her off balance. It had been decades since they had made an appearance and their weight bogged her down. The sharp edge of her wingtip grazed Lucius Malfoy's shoulder, immediately drawing blood._

_His howl of pain, snapped Narcissa from her reverie, her wings slowly dissipating as his pain coursed through her. She panted heavily as her talons retracted and she slowly transformed back into a striking platinum blonde with blue eyes and shredded robes._

"_Lucius…I…" She hurried to his side, distraught upon causing him such anguish, her heart clenching in her chest when he shrunk away from her._

"_Do. Not. Touch. Me." _

For the first time in his life, Lucius was grateful for the interference of Apolline Delacour. He had refused even the lightest touch of comfort for his wife as the feelings of betrayal spouted forth. Apolline had calmed his wife and had him immediately moved to one of the many bedchambers in Malfoy Manor.

He scowled at the floral pink wallpaper, swearing Apolline had placed him here on purpose. He wasn't about to leave the confines of the bedchamber, for fear of greeting an irate Veela, but he wasn't happy about it in the least. In order to pass the time, Lucius had summoned his son's elf Rosie and demanded she fetch the letters from the desk in his study. He scoured the meticulous box letters with care, desperate for any clue as to the sender.

"You were being truthful. I'm actually quite surprised. I wasn't aware you were capable." Apolline Delacour floated into the room, quickly unpinning her lavender hat, her nose crinkling as she glanced about her surroundings.

"Get out." Lucius snarled, hissing with the witch snatched the small stack of parchment from his hands.

"You are quite ungracious considering I tended to your wounds. Perhaps you would have preferred if I'd left you to bleed with your furious Veela wife." She ignored his scowl with ease, as she perused the letters. "These were obviously enchanted."

Lucius neglected the searing pain in his shoulder. He stretched forward, grappling for the edge of the letters Apolline waved in her tanned hand. He struggled with his wand, finally wrenching it from the top drawer of the bedside table and sighed as the pain relented.

"Aparecium." The Revealing Charm was barely whispered and yet a subtle glow lit the pages and box letters were replaced with decidedly feminine scrivening.

Apolline's lavender dress swished as she walked toward the head of the bed. Without preamble, she sat beside the distressed wizard in order to inspect the revealed words. She shook her head slowly, knowing she would be forced to speak with Draco immediately.

"These aren't simple juvenile death threats, Lucius. These reek of Death Eater hatred. They wish to not only kill the girl, but torture her in ways not fit to be repeated in mixed company."

"I can't give these to him. He'll murder me without a second thought."

"He'll be furious no doubt. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he demonstrated. I'll bear the brunt of his rage. Lucius, it would be in your best interest to accept the girl. Ms. Granger is…"

Lucius Malfoy held up his hand, silencing the French witch. The tic in his cheek twitched and while he was as thankful as he was willing to be toward Apolline, he still balked at the idea of Hermione Granger marring his family line.

"Lucius…"

"I cannot abide the thought, however I do not wish my heir to wither. It is quite the conundrum. Do I allow centuries of pureblood family lines to completely dissipate or do I allow the line to end with me? My son has made it abundantly clear he would not even entertain the idea of living without her." Lucius reclined upon the feather pillows, breathing heavily.

Even with the Healing Spells and Potions, the exertion of the day's events proved to be too much for him. Lucius gratefully accepted the tea tray quietly presented by one of his many house elves, wincing upon lifting the teacup. He peered over the piping hot tea and contemplated Apolline's pensive stare.

"Were you angry upon learning you were bound to Narcissa Black?" Apolline tucked her graying blonde strands into the jewel encrusted hairpin as she stared at the pink flowers on the wall.

"Furious actually. I came to terms with it quickly enough, but there were quite a few years I was resentful." Lucius covered his mouth to stifle a yawn, his long lashes blinking slowly.

"I suppose it's safe to say, you felt as though you were stripped of your choices. I can't help but to ask if you ever wondered, or were concerned Narcissa didn't truly love you, and you she, as it's ever so easy to blame the Veela magic." Apolline lifted an empty china teacup from his tray and poured herself a cup of tea.

"She didn't love me when I was Marked. Such things took time and she didn't allow us the time to discern our feelings on the matter. I was intrigued by her, it was impossible not to be. Narcissa really was quite alluring, despite her penchant for antagonizing me." Lucius wanted nothing more than to stop the damning words from leaving his mouth, realising Apolline had slipped him a peculiar Potion, which lowered his inhibitions.

"Do you suppose it would have been worse if the roles had been reversed? Imagine it, Lucius Malfoy the Veela, claiming his mate without her consent, binding her to him for the rest of her days."

"I know what you're doing." Lucius spat, curious as to why his lips were suddenly numb.

"Do you? Are you quite sure? It would be safe to say Hermione Granger wasn't particularly thrilled when she discovered your son has a magical bond with her that can never be broken. In fact, she's resisted his efforts to Mark her. He studied with me for a year in order to learn how to control his newfound magic, in order to dissect his emotions, in order to come to terms with the fact he's destined for the witch you detest the most. Your son, your heir, Draco Malfoy is irrevocably in love with a Muggle-born witch." Lucius slumped forward as he sighed with the slightest trace of resignation.

"I hate her."

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual." Apolline hid a small smile, knowing she was breaking through his tenacious façade.

"I refuse to be civil to that Potter boy."

"No one is asking you too, however it might earn you a reprieve from your son's anger if you were to show a bit of kindness to your future daughter-in-law. She really is quite brilliant." Apolline patted his hand in a show of comfort and Lucius didn't withdraw with a scathing comment.

"She bested Draco in nearly ever subject. Bloody witch what did you give me?" Lucius slapped his palms on his thighs, frustrated with his inability to keep silent.

"Diluted Veritaserum and a bit of Sleeping Draught, you'll be right as rain come morning."

"I'm going to have bushy haired, know-it-all, half blood grandchildren." Lucius Malfoy sulked as if he were nothing more than a toddler having a tantrum and even Apolline could no longer retain her snort of amusement.

"Perhaps your granddaughters, but your grandsons shall carry the genes of his father, which should please you immensely."

"I'm going to pretend he's not a halfblood." Lucius Malfoy's silver eyes finally fluttered shut and Apolline stood.

She carefully removed the tea tray from his lap, setting it on the bedside table with a smile. She gently covered the slumbering wizard with his silk sheets and cashmere caftan, while shaking her head. Apolline knew it would take time for Lucius to truly embrace the idea of Hermione Granger, but it was a start.

As she walked toward the door, preparing to vacate the hideously decorated bedchamber, she snickered as he mumbled in his sleep.

"Have to be nice to her. I don't like her a bit. Talks too much. Opinionated. Harry Potter. Bloody Weasleys. Pretend they're not halfbloods, pretend, just pretend. I can pretend." Lucius finally flopped onto his side, a deep furrow in his forehead and Apolline downright laughed.

"Yes, yes you can Lucius."

* * *

Ginny Weasley worked side by side with Megan Jones in the kitchens, more to avoid Cormac McLaggen than her overwhelming need to channel her mother. Megan was a personable witch and although Ginny didn't know her well, it didn't interfere with their ability to work together.

"We're going to spoil them if we keep this up." Megan wiped her hands on her black apron, not the slightest bit bothered by the handprints of flour decorating the front and shoved her spiral curls back into a hasty bun.

Ginny sighed, pleased with their accomplishments. She hoped the children would finally have fully stomachs and it seemed most of them had been without for longer than she cared to mention. She felt a smile forming when she heard the clamor of children racing down the stairs and Hermione's harsh voice scolding them.

"Suppose we should have the men bring the dishes up." Mandy Brocklehurst hurried into the kitchen, quickly searching through the cupboards. "I shouldn't have chosen the tots. At least Sally gets to sit with adults and eat. I have half a dozen babes screeching for their mums and refusing their teats. I'm completely knackered and don't even get me started on the lack of push chairs." Mandy's bottom lip trembled, but the crack of Apparition ceased her impending meltdown.

"The elves are here!" It seemed Blaise Zabini had arrived as his booming voice carried down the steps leading to the kitchens.

"Thank Merlin." Mandy breathed, her stiff posture relaxing with the simple idea of aid.

Megan adjusted her purple spectacles and slowly made her way upstairs. She knew by this time the children would be pounding their utensils on the long tables in the perfect replica of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. She was ravenously curious concerning Hermione's newfound relationship with Draco Malfoy, but at the same time, it was obvious, now wasn't the time to broach such subjects.

When she reached the top landing, Megan immediately turned to her right, hoping the menfolk were in the Dining Hall. With her eyes curiously studying the intricate paintings decorating the walls, she bumped into a particularly tall, sturdy wizard.

Ginny dutifully followed Sally-Anne Perks up the stairs after setting half a dozen elves to work. She decided to stop in Hermione's office to see about Pansy, when a large hand covered her mouth as she was dragged to a small storeroom. She struggled, grappling for her wand, until she felt a fist in her hair.

"Watch them." A low voice hissed, removing the hand from her mouth to slide down her throat, pausing on her breast for a quick squeeze, before digging into her hip.

Ginny opened her mouth to scream, but it lodged in her throat upon seeing Blaise Zabini bow before the curly haired blonde witch. She noticed the light in his eyes and the way he relaxed when she spoke. Megan touched his arm while the two conversed, laughing lightly.

"I do believe he's blushing Ginevra." She blinked and realised Cormac was absolutely correct.

Blaise had a light blush on his cheeks and it wasn't more than a moment, before he was offering Megan his arm. Ginny quickly analysed her feelings on the matter and discovered she didn't feel jealous. She didn't feel angry. Fact of the matter is, she didn't feel much of anything at all, as far as Blaise was concerned.

"Are you trying to hurt me? If you are, let me assure you, you've failed." Ginny hissed pushing against the firm chest in her back, squirming to be released.

Cormac yanked her silky red hair off her neck and bit down, hard. She detested the way her body immediately betrayed her, causing her to go weak in the limbs. She gulped and remained perfectly still, knowing any movement would simply spur him on.

"I know you repaired your knickers. Take them off." Ginny shook her head, resolute to resist his velvet words.

Cormac quietly closed the storeroom door without moving from his current position. He locked it with a whisper and smiled slow. He cocked his head to the side and decided it was in his best interest to confuse her.

He had pursued Ginevra Weasley for years after it became obvious Hermione Granger was never going to give him a second glance. He sought the fiery witches, the more obstinate the better, and his hands were full with this one. Though no matter how many times he'd scurried her away from her current romantic interest, he'd never kissed her.

Strange as it seems, Cormac McLaggen was of the opinion, kissing was the most intimate act in existence between lovers. He wasn't exactly prepared to commit to anyone, and yet he was curious. He'd often flitted between witches, but there was something about Ginevra, which caused him to return and he wished nothing more than to taste her.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, or cause her to flee from him, Cormac turned Ginny by her shoulders, wedging his leg between her thighs. She stared at the buttons of his dress shirt, a fiery blush upon her high cheeks. She didn't know what he was playing at, but this was certainly different.

He'd never truly been gentle and she'd always enjoyed his amorous ways. It was the excitement of discovery that happened to feed her passion. As his nimble fingers hovered near her throat, Ginny closed her light brown eyes once more.

Cormac's knuckles scraped against her skin as he unbuttoned her heather grey blouse. He lowered his head, inhaling deeply near her throat before nibbling her earlobe. Ginny gasped, her breaths shallow as Cormac traversed the landscape of her throat to her collarbone. He sighed in contentment upon discovering the front closure of her lacy bra and spread it open.

Ever so gently, he hefted the weight of her breasts in his hands, groaning into her throat when her dusky peaks hardened. Cormac kissed her jaw and finally consumed her lips. Ginny never expected him to kiss her. It had always been an unspoken rule, but at the moment, rules were the furthest thing from her mind. Her hands rose, immediately gripping his dirty blond hair, their mouths slanting, tongues battling for dominance.

Cormac didn't waste time by hesitating, his hands immediately exploring beneath her plaid skirt, hooking in the waistband of her repaired knickers. He drew them down her well-toned thighs, panting into her mouth. Ginny bit his bottom lip hard, whimpering with want.

She unbuckled his slacks, shoving them off his narrow hips in a frenzy of want. Cormac broke from her bruised lips only to lower his lips to her aching breasts. Ginny's back arched away from the wall, shoving her breasts into his face while his fingers worked between her thighs.

She nearly came apart the very second he brushed her throbbing sex, biting her lip to keep the sounds to a minimum. He stroked her hard and fast, just the way she preferred. It was easy to lift her into his arms, once more covering her lips with his own before he impaled her on his cock. Cormac thrust hard, slamming Ginny's back into the wall, feeling her clench around him.

* * *

Draco Malfoy pulled Hermione from her office, threading their fingers together as he led her toward the Dining Hall. She attempted to protest, but one glance at his darkened eyes kept her silent. She hadn't been eating and considering the amount of stress she'd been under it was understandable, but not to Draco.

He paused beside the small storeroom, quirking his head with a smirk. He pulled Hermione near and pressed her head against the door. He wasn't positive she would be able to hear the sounds, but he had to try.

"Do you hear them Granger?"

"Y-yes, it's bloody indecent." Draco dipped his head, quickly licking Hermione's earlobe, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"We could do better if given the chance." He closed his eyes, honing in on the heat on her cheeks and the whirlwind of emotions she was currently experiencing. "How do you feel about me, Granger?" Hermione shivered, turning ever so slowly.

Her petite hands made their way up his torso, her fingers thrumming on his shoulders. She blinked and took a shaky breath before staring into the grey eyes that completely entranced her. Hermione didn't have the words, she didn't have the answers, but she wanted them. She desperately wanted them, almost as much as she wanted the wizard boring into her soul.

Hermione's pale pink lips parted, falsehood on her tongue and she paused. She didn't want to lie to him. She couldn't, not with the way he was looking at her. She couldn't, not with the range of confusing emotions flowing through her veins.

"How skilled are you in Legilimency?" Hermione's voice wavered and she knew he could feel her tension.

Draco sucked his breath through his teeth, crushing her to his chest. His palms rolled in small circles, shushing her as one would a child. She hummed, a combination of stilted hysteria and relief when she heard the rapid thump of his heart beneath her ear.

"Do you trust me?" The timbre of his voice, set her as much at ease as the gentle strokes across her back and Hermione nodded slowly. "Look at me."

The moment Hermione lifted her eyes and stared at him through long golden brown lashes, Draco was tumbling through a lifetime of memories. He maneuvered carefully, so as not to cause her harm, ever conscious of her slight tremble in his arms.

_Draco shuddered with revulsion, finding himself in the midst of a distasteful memory, honing in on the Hermione Granger he adored to infuriate._

"_Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"_

_"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"_

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Hermione.

_He smirked, sensing her worry for him more than for the inept Neville Longbottom, slowly drifting toward the next scene. Draco wasn't particularly fond of this next event either, however he assumed there was a common theme._

_Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily._

"_You think he'll be all right?" Draco noticed the nervousness in her voice, avoiding even a glance in that blasted Hippogriff's direction._

_He flinched, scowling as he observed Hermione slap him with a fiery rage. He vividly remembered the spark in her eye, and it lit a fire in him he wasn't willing to admit to anyone. Draco stayed with her, watching his younger-self retreat without a scathing word._

"_What? Oh no!" Draco smiled with fondness over her distress. "I forgot to go to Charms!"_

"_How could you forget?" Bloody Harry Potter, of course, it was him asking of her. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"_

"_I don't believe it!" Draco wasn't the least bit surprised to see her wailing, she'd always spent a little too much time with her books. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and lost track of things!"_

_Draco groaned, holding Hermione just a bit tighter upon stumbling into Professor Moody brandishing his wand and turning his younger-self into a white ferret. He hurried through the embarrassment, wondering why Hermione had led him this way when he heard her voice._

"_He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," Draco watched her eyes flick toward the doors to the Great Hall, almost as if she expected his reappearance. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it…"_

_Draco knew he shouldn't remain locked in her memories for much longer, but his curiosity really was getting the best of him. He decided one more and then he would retreat. His heart nearly beat from his chest as they floated toward the last memory he would invade._

_The Yule Ball, of course he'd never forget such a thing. It was the first time he had ever truly considered Hermione Granger anything other than the dirt beneath his feet. He'd been vaguely intrigued before, of course, but her choice of companions and her blood status had always kept him from anything more than a quick fantasy, until the Yule Ball._

_Hermione stood at the top of the steps, her unruly curls finally tamed into a sensual coif. It was strange to see through her eyes in this particular memory, as it seemed she was glancing in his younger-self's direction. She glided down the stairs and if he wasn't mistaken, one of the Patil twin's mouths was gaping open. He recalled the glare upon Pansy Parkinson's lips as she gaped at the Gryffindor Princess, but Hermione's eyes were locked on his, and he wondered how he had never noticed._

"All this time? Granger, why the fuck are you making me wait?" Draco groaned into her hair. "I've worked my arse off just to be able to stand in the same room as you. I shredded furniture and suffered the burn, rather than admit how much I fucking need you. I carefully bided my time and almost ripped Weasley to bits rather than suffer him touching you. You care about me, I know you do, I've felt it, and now I've seen it. Merlin Granger, I love you, bloody let me." Draco wrapped her tighter if only to keep from shaking her silly.

"I-I needed to be sure." Hermione choked through her tears, shaking her head, "I still need to be sure. I need to speak with Apolline. I need to speak with your mother. I need to understand some strange woman's toiletries littering your lavatory…"

"I need you to be kept safe. I need you to decipher the threats my father has received against you. I need to Mark you. I need you." The desperation in his broken voice nearly shattered her resolve, but Hermione held fast.

"After Apolline, and only if I receive the answers I require." Hermione inhaled deeply, swaying lightly on her feet, only to realise Draco was rocking her.

"If Apolline Delacour doesn't have the answers, than she will provide you with some ridiculously boring tome which will hold the answers." Draco nuzzled her throat, lost in a heady haze while his senses were overloaded. "And then…"

"Yes Malfoy. Then you can Mark me."


	13. Of Confrontations & Curses

**AN: I borrowed a bit of dialogue from JK Rowling because it was just too perfect to not use it...I'm sure you'll recognise it...and I'm sure you'll realise I didn't bloody write it.**

**As always...enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Of Confrontations &amp; Curses

* * *

"Well, well, well, what _do_ we have here?" The soft clip of heels on marble drew their attention just as much as the lilting voice dripping with disdain.

Hermione recoiled from the blatant hatred stemming from the piercing blue eyes. Draco's throaty growl rose to a ferocious snapping, his teeth gnashing together in protective displeasure. He extricated himself from Hermione's arms, thrusting her behind him, his dark eyes never leaving the intruders.

"Isn't it sweet Theo?" Blood red lips mocked Draco's defensive stance. "Look how far our old friend has fallen, protecting filth."

"I suppose it could be a ruse, couldn't it? Malfoy always _did_ have a penchant for attaching himself to his betters in order to improve his station." A sandy haired wizard, tall in stature, if exceedingly thin, draped his arm over the willowy brunette's shoulders.

Draco curled his fist, rapping harshly on the storeroom door. He was more than aware the occupants had long since concluded their amorous activities and considering the burst of rage aching to make an appearance, he'd rather Hermione was whisked away to safety. He expected the snobbish McLaggen to emerge and was more than a little surprised to see a slightly disheveled Ginny Weasley.

"Go and retrieve Zabini for me, would you? Take Granger with you. Don't argue, love. I'm sure if it comes to hurling curses your Gryffindor pride will disallow you to remain hidden." Draco shoved Hermione into Ginny, his eyes never leaving the ominous duo.

Hermione was quite prepared to argue with him, her mouth opening in order to spout a soliloquy, but Ginny's pale hand covered her lips. Ginny dragged her friend down the long corridor, bursting through the double doors of the Dining Hall. Hermione valiantly struggled, but she was no match for the taller, stronger witch.

"Why didn't you let me…" Hermione shouted, stopping as the sounds of children chattering faded away.

"Zabini, there's a bit of trouble front of house. Malfoy's requested your assistance." Ginny nicked Hermione's wand and handed her off to Megan without fanfare.

Blaise lurched to his feet, more than prepared to leap into the fray. Anything was better than the questioning gaze flitting between him and Megan. He knew he'd have to break it off with Ginny, but now wasn't the time. It seemed there were Slytherins afoot and he was itching for a good fight.

"Oi, Granger, stay here with your tots. Weasley, let's go then. You bloody well know Granger won't rest a bit if I'm not dragging a Gryffindor into a Slytherin fray." The burly Italian wizard nodded curtly at the red haired witch.

Ginny tossed Hermione her wand with a deep breath. She took Blaise's hand and allowed him to lead her from the Dining Hall, feeling multiple pairs of eyes in her back, before the doors swung shut. Ginny was thankful for her long legs, as it allowed her to keep up with Blaise Zabini's long strides, while valiantly praying Hermione remained behind.

"Oh look poppet, another traitor, how much fun." The brunette witch tossed her head back and cackled with laughter that would have rivaled Bellatrix Lestrange.

Blaise quickly perused the scene, his wand firmly clenched in a thick fist. He quirked his head to the right and Ginny quickly slid toward the stairs. She fervently hoped Hermione had thought to send a Patronus to Harry, as she wasn't sure how long they could fend off the intruders. The numbers were on their side, but knowing their affinity for the Dark Arts, Ginny couldn't help the trepidation.

"Greengrass. Nott." Blaise Zabini twitched his wand with warning toward Theodore Nott, knowing Draco wouldn't allow Daphne to take a single step.

Daphne Greengrass flipped her long, almost black hair over her shoulder and perched on the edge of Cormac McLaggen's desk. Her short black dress clung to her ample curves, complementing her long, lightly tanned legs. She tapped her wand against her palm, her dark blue eyes sparkling with delight.

"Oh Draco, your choice of companions disappoints me. I can't imagine what your aunt would think. I miss her dearly, delightful witch really. She taught me ever so much, which is more than can be said for you." Daphne purred before adjusting her décolletage, pouting when Draco Malfoy's gaze didn't drop to her exposed cleavage.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Blaise snarled, bored with their antics.

"We've simply decided to drop in on some old friends. There's nothing wrong with that, now is there?" Theo rolled his soulless brown eyes while traversing the space.

Their instructions had been simply to warn, but if the moment arose, Theo didn't have the slightest issue casting against his former mates. They had betrayed pureblood ideals, they weren't worthy to be considered Slytherin, let alone the simple fact they took it upon themselves to cavort with the dirt. They were a disgrace and Theodore Nott was disgusted by their ability to still draw breath, hoping it would be rectified soon.

The patter of tiny feet distracted Draco, drawing his attention to a curious sight. It seemed one of the tots had escaped the clutches of Mandy Brocklehurst. The curly haired blonde was determined to make her way down the marble staircase, one careful step at a time.

Daphne contemplated the child with narrowed eyes, slowly lifting her wand. Before she could part her lips, Draco snatched the child from the steps, ignoring Ginny's gasp of surprise. The rumble in his chest caused Theo's eyebrows to rise in shock, but seemed to soothe the sniffling tot, who snuggled into him.

"Mummy go?"

"Ah yes, I remember now. You're Nova. I'd like you to do me a favour, can you do that?" Nova Cleary bobbed her moppet of curls, pleased to see the nice man. "I'm going to set you down and I wish you to walk straight back to those big doors and find that nice woman I showed you, Okay?" Draco walked slowly, backwards in order to keep Daphne and Theo in his sights, before setting down the small child.

"Otay." Nova whispered. She toddled slowly, waving over her shoulder.

Hermione Granger situated the children, having Mandy hurry them up the back stairs to their dormitories. She believed they would be safer further away from the unpleasantness. She counted the tots Megan had brought down and realised they were short a child. Hermione looked to Mandy and the poor witch nearly burst into tears.

"She toddled off. I-I tried to catch her, but she was already at the top of the stairs." Hermione shoved through the double doors, sighing with relief as Nova walked toward her.

Theo knew Draco was distracted. It was more than their arrival and the appearance of the pretty little girl. Despite their rocky beginnings, at one point they had been quite close. Theo knew the wizard more than he wished to, and surmised this was his opening.

He was under specific instructions not to kill the witch, otherwise he probably would have used an Unforgivable simply to watch her squirm. Theo looked to Blaise only to discover narrowed dark eyes furtively glancing between the tall blond and the red haired hussy. He smiled long and slow, his wand trained on the Muggle-born witch.

Hermione spied the tip of the wand just before she picked up the child. She had a choice. She could draw her wand and put Nova's well being in danger, or protect the child while hoping for the best. Being the ever selfless Gryffindor, she cradled Nova in her arms, spinning on her heel before the spell was ever spoken.

The tread on her sensible shoes decided it was best moment to betray her, causing Hermione to slip on the marble. She was poised to run, desperately clutching Nova to her chest, her own lowered to protect as much of the tot as possible. Her knees hit the floor and she groaned, wincing as the sharp pain jarred her spine before it snaked down to her calves.

"Impedimenta!" Megan Jones, blonde curls in disarray, flour handprints on her apron, cast the spell from the Dining Hall doorjamb, with ferocity no one expected.

"Expelliarmus!" Blaise Zabini hit Theo with the spell moments after his immobility, catching the wizard's wand with ease. He passed it to Megan as she hurried passed, with a wink, sensing she had a bit of fire in her.

Ginny Weasley circled Daphne, keeping a wide berth between them. She'd seen the witch in action during the war and Ginny was well aware of Daphne's speed and proficiency. Daphne on the other hand, licked her red lips and snapped her fingers. Ginny crumpled like a child's ragdoll, her head bouncing off the marble floor.

"Draco, Draco, Draco, I'm so disappointed. Here I thought dear Theo and I could drop in on an old friend and reminisce about the glorious days of our Dark Lord just to find you wrapped around that which shouldn't exist." Daphne clucked her tongue, batting her long lashes. "You know Draco, darling, if you're going to invite a witch back to your flat, the least you can do is provide the poor girl with more than my scraps. I can't imagine even a Mudblood would enjoy wandering about draped in the scent of her lover's ex. Unless of course it's your way of keeping me about."

Draco Malfoy hissed, low and long while backing slowly away from the bane of his existence. His priority was Hermione Granger, he was struggling to maintain control as it was, considering her injury. He refused to rise to the occasion no matter the valiant effort put forth by Daphne Greengrass to anger him beyond recognition. He couldn't risk his Veela magic overtaking him, here, in the face of the enemy. His curled fists hid the black talons cutting into his palms and Daphne was the sort of witch to concentrate on her agenda more than the colour of his eyes.

Megan Jones concentrated solely on Theodore Nott. He spat at her, prepared to physically attack the bint, but fuck if she wasn't faster. Theo half expected Blaise to step in, but it seemed the Italian bastard was enjoying himself just a bit too much, smiling with his arms crossed.

Megan thrust her wand into his throat, her brown eyes flashing with wrath, daring him to touch her. She kicked his legs out from under him, shoving him as though she were nothing more than a Muggle. Theo hit the ground, his breath escaping in a throaty gasp. He attempted to snatch his wand from her and damned if Megan didn't plant her heel against his throat, grinding ever so slightly.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Her yellow skirt swayed ever so slightly and Theo managed a leering smirk, blatantly staring at creamy thighs and yellow lace knickers.

Megan, completely oblivious to Theo's stare, glanced over her shoulder, only to see Blaise tenderly lifting Ginny into his arms. It seemed Ginny's head was bleeding profusely and Daphne was engaged in a silent standoff with Draco Malfoy. Theo, on the other hand, decided on a bit of fun.

He recalled the endless lessons of wandless, non-verbal magic with his father and while he had detested the man, Theo was more than willing to learn. He strove for perfection, validation even in his Dark Arts lessons and flourished. He stroked the first two fingers of his right hand against his thumb, blowing softly. He imagined pushing aside the blonde witch's knickers and stroking pink puffy lips until she moaned.

Megan yelped, her cheeks blushing furiously, her eyes glaring daggers at the prone wizard beneath her shoe. Theo winked and licked his lips ever so slowly, the innuendo clear. Megan felt a slight breeze between her thighs, her knickers shifting to the left, exposing herself to the wizard and she was laced with humiliation. Her choices were limited as the bloke was wandless. She knew if she removed her foot from his throat, he'd toss her to the floor and curse her before she could blink.

"Nice cunt." Theo hissed, his forefinger swirling in feverish circles. "Are you a virgin? You are, how delightful." He laughed darkly, carving his initials into Megan's thigh, his magic marring her blemish free skin with a quick stroke.

Theo grasped her foot, twisting it quickly and Megan crashed beside him, her wand clattering just out of reach. Theo climbed up her body quickly, tearing his wand from between her fingers, without the hint of a struggle. Megan blinked under the effects of the Dark Magic now pumping through her veins, simply watching Theo slowly stand over her.

"Give me your knickers." Megan blinked twice, her golden lashes long against her cheek as she reached under her skirt and wiggled out of her lacy knickers. "See you soon, Puppet." Theo chuckled darkly and shoved the scrap of yellow into his pocket.

"Finished?" Daphne called, easily hopping off Cormac's desk, her hips swaying with practiced exaggeration.

She wrapped her long arms around Theo's neck, molding herself to his tall frame. Theo tucked his wand in the back pocket of his slacks, his hands dropping to the minimal curve of her bum. They surveyed their surroundings, satisfied with the upheaval and smiled.

"I do believe we're finished here, love." Theo patted Daphne's bum, allowing her to take the lead.

"Oh yes, they were beginning to bore me. See you soon darlings." Daphne laughed and with a menacing sort of glower, Disapparated them.

"My knickers are missing." Megan Jones was the first to break the uneasy silence.

She frowned, the tiny furrows in her brow accentuating her high cheekbones. She stood on shaky limbs, immediately moving toward Hermione who was still cradling a shaking Nova. She offered to take the child, but the brunette witch simply shook her head and held the tot tighter.

"What happened? Am I late?" Harry Potter burst through the entrance of the Foundation with his shirt untucked and his hair disastrous.

Draco ignored The Bastard Who Lived and attempted to remove Nova from Hermione's arms, but she refused to budge. Hermione cried into the girl's curls and Nova clung to Hermione's green dress, fat tears and bogies dripping onto the sleeve. He realised it was futile and simply scooped Hermione and Nova into his arms and Disapparated.

* * *

Pansy Parkinson licked the salt from her lips, sighing with contentment before shoving away her empty plate. She'd gorged herself on fish and salty chips, yet didn't feel the least bit of shame in it. She stroked the soft fabric of her sleeves and shivered slightly, but it wasn't from the chill in the air.

Ron gave her a wide berth, which she appreciated, yet even with his presence, Pansy felt alone. She eyed the bottles of firewhiskey and buckets of ice cream longingly, but it wouldn't be proper, not after the meal she'd consumed. Instead, she gazed out the window, shuddering slightly upon hearing the pop of Apparition.

"Where the fuck have you been? Do you have idea what…"

"Malfoy, I Silenced the room." Hermione interjected from within the safety of Draco's arms.

Ron looked on with concern, knowing better than to approach his oldest friend. She seemed safe enough and he was more concerned with Pansy. Sure, she had changed into the Muggle clothes Hermione had brought her, and eaten with gusto, but she hadn't said a word. Her silence scared him a fair bit.

Pansy managed a small smile toward Nova, who stared openly. Nova waved shyly, eying one of the many tubs of ice cream. Pansy sensed Draco had something important to say. It was in his stance, the tension in his shoulders and while she was intrigued, she'd much rather feed a tot ice cream than listen to one of his diatribes.

Draco set Hermione on her feet, hovering as she hefted Nova on her hip, quickly glancing about the expansive room. She had originally intended to utilise the room as some sort of schoolroom, until realising the children needed a place to be children. Hermione had immediately set Ron to work, knowing even he couldn't ruin the space.

She was pleased to see one of the walls was lined with cupboards filled with new books, as well as plush seating and throw rugs. She set Nova on her chubby legs, smiling as the girl hurried to the corner practically overflowing with plush animals. Hermione felt the heat of Draco's warmth behind her and sighed heavily.

"Pansy, you have to tell them." Hermione's broken whisper only interrupted the toddler babble as she crashed together a dragon and a hippogriff, which she would have found hilarious under different circumstances.

Draco fervently wished he could ebb her tension, settling for encircling her waist and holding her close. He closed his eyes, silently cursing his inability to properly protect her, cursing her, and her stubbornness as well. He shuddered, choking on the imagery of Theo's curse actually striking her, and suddenly it was Hermione being his strength.

Her warm palm on his cool face, her soft lips against his cheek, her head in the crook of his shoulder, knowing he needed her, and it was more than just the lure of magic. While his upbringing refused to allow him to emotionally shatter before her, his choked breaths were enough to bring him to his knees. Draco Malfoy was finally at his breaking point. He was overcome with desire, fear, and even rage, it would have been impossible for anyone to remain calm under such constraints, yet for him, even more so.

His hands shook as his mind clouded, his thoughts moving so quickly he was incapable of formulating them into some semblance of sanity. Draco was aware of Hermione calling his name over and over, but he was so tired and his limbs were so heavy, he didn't have the strength to part his lips to reassure her.

"What's wrong with him?" Ron Weasley risked the wrath of a floundering Draco Malfoy, propped the wizard against his shoulder, and hefted him toward what he deemed 'The Napping Corner'. He attempted to lower him slowly, but being Ron, he dropped Draco unceremoniously onto a ridiculously striped feather tick.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted at the ginger wizard, concerned for the sweating pale wizard.

She quickly checked his body for wounds, coming up empty. Hermione's hands found purchase on her hips and she huffed, causing Ron to smile. There were moments when he missed the angry Hermione he'd known most of his life, as long as the anger wasn't directed toward him, of course.

"I don't know what to do. Ron, ask the others to come up yeah? Also, have Cormac send an owl to Apolline or even Narcissa at this point. He doesn't look well at all." Hermione shrieked, falling beside Draco as it seemed his arm had darted forward, her wrist in an iron grip in his clammy hand, while he dragged her to his chest.

Draco whimpered, almost a whisper, lost in the sea of her mussed dark hair and she allowed him such liberties, if only to ease his angst. His breaths were short and hot against her jawline and his muscles were as tight as the clench of his jaw. Hermione gently stroked the backs of his hands, now tightly encircling her waist while ignoring inquisitive glances.

"She's been Branded." Pansy quavered, carefully eyeing Megan Jones wide eyed empty stare as the others filed slowly into the brightly decorated room.

"Branded? What are you going on about?" Harry frowned quickly, distractedly looking to Hermione. "Is…is he alright? He looks a bit out of sorts." Harry wasn't particularly fond of Malfoy, but the bloke looked a right mess.

"I don't know. I've sent for Apolline. Listen to Pansy. This is important and quite dangerous. Megan should be restrained immediately and I'd suggest a good Muffliato Charm as well." Hermione shifted, instantly stilling as it caused Draco to groan in pain.

Harry nodded quickly, scrutinizing the normally bubbly blonde witch with careful eyes. He was quite used to suspecting everyone, and had no qualms adhering to Hermione's request. He trusted her with his life, and knew it was in his best interest to do as he was bid. Harry flicked his wand and Megan was instantly seated in a high backed wooden chair. He sighed, scratching his head quickly and muttered another spell, securing her with magical bonds. Megan Jones only blinked, blankly staring at the lime green striped wall nearest Hermione and Draco.

"Muffliato." Megan frowned as the buzzing set in and it seemed to agitate her.

"It's Theo." Pansy held out her hand and Ron quickly hurried to her side, taking it in his own. "It's Dark Magic. You won't read about it in any book. Voldemort created loads of spells and taught them to his faithful followers. I'd be lying if I said I didn't know a fair few and Draco knows even more. Theo however, was the protégé. Once Draco failed in his task, Theo was embraced in the fold. It's funny if you think about it…" Pansy laughed without mirth, eyeing the firewhiskey longingly.

Blaise quickly poured her a tumbler of firewhiskey and magically filled a porcelain bowl with vanilla bean ice cream, setting it on the arts and crafts table where Pansy sat. Her plump lips twitched and she greedily downed the drink, holding the empty glass aloft. After another drink, finished as quickly as the first, Pansy nodded.

"Theo detested his father more than Draco hated his. They bonded over their parental hatred, but the moment the Dark Bastard beckoned, there went Theo. He didn't give a rat's arse about the pureblood agenda. He wanted power. He wanted to be recognised. He wanted to be the best at something. He's quite proficient in the Dark Arts, more so than Daphne and that's saying quite a bit. Scary bitch that one is, but that's neither here nor there. He's quite terrifying when the mood strikes him and it strikes him quite a bit." Pansy scooped the creamy cool concoction on her spoon and sucked it between her lips, savoring the cool against her tongue.

"You said Megan's been Branded. Can you tell me what that means?" Harry Potter was taking notes. Hermione would have beamed with pride, if she hadn't been preoccupied, by the roving hands of Draco Malfoy.

"Oh yes, the Brand. It's not unpleasant. She's not feeling a bit of pain. In a few hours, she'll seem normal once more, but she won't be. She's a Puppet now. I was a Puppet. The memories are a bit hazy now, which suits me just fine. I don't know the spell. I don't even know if there's an incantation. I know he rubs his fingers together, blows on them, and scrawls his initials in the air. If you check the poor girl, I'm sure there's a bit of black lettering on her thigh. You can't trust her now. It's not her fault, she can't help it. It's best to pretend she's the same, if Theo discovers the truth, he'll kill her." Pansy shuddered and Ron was quick to draw her to his chest, swallowing hard.

"He won't…hurt her, will he?" Ron pecked Pansy's forehead with chapped lips, awkwardly patting her back.

"He didn't hurt me. He made me do things I didn't want to do, but he didn't hurt me. It's quite similar to the Imperius, but you can't fight it off." Pansy shrugged, pretending the memories didn't make the bile rise in her throat.

"You're not a Puppet now though, are you? He let you go?" Harry frowned as curious as he was appalled.

"It doesn't last forever. He'll call for her and she'll answer him. She won't have a choice in the matter. Every time he calls for her, the Brand will fade." Pansy closed her eyes, leaning close to Ron. The scent of fresh cut grass and dirt clinging to his brown plaid shirt was calming and she needed the calm.

"Do you have…I mean, do you think you could give me a general idea in terms of a time table?" Harry pestered the witch for more information as it was really his only lead.

"Theo called me for weekly. I didn't have much to tell him, but it was the early days. He was much more interested in fucking me. Make no mistake, he'll fuck her, and if you're lucky, he'll tire of her and release her. If he doesn't, I'd expect at least half a year, unless he renews the spell." Pansy mumbled the last few words, her sooty eyelashes flickering against Ron's chest and Harry knew she'd fallen asleep.

"Ron, take her to Grimmauld Place. She shouldn't be alone. Luna will check on her in a bit, she's at St. Mungo's with Ginny. Surprisingly enough, bloody McLaggen insisted on accompanying her. Surprised you didn't go, Zabini." Harry shoved his round spectacles up the bridge of his nose and shoved his notes into his pocket.

"Weasley's a nice witch. She's even a touch feisty, which you well know I appreciate, but she's not the witch for me. I'm not the wizard for her either. Frankly, t'would be a fair sight easier if she just accepted…" Blaise sighed, wrenching the pinstriped tie from his throat.

"McLaggen. Bloody bastard fancies her more than a little, but Ginny's always been ridiculously stubborn. Some day they'll suss it out." Harry patted the taller wizard on the shoulder and cleared his throat noisily.

Blaise shuffled uncomfortably with a curt nod and moved toward Draco and Hermione. Draco refused to release his hold and Hermione looked out of sorts. His cheeks were flushed and beads of sweat broke across his brow, his lips constantly moving, soundlessly.

"What should we do about Megan?" Hermione whispered, her brown eyes large and full of concern.

"Keep her working with the tots. They don't say much." Draco moaned, forcing his stiff limbs into submission as he sat up. "Granger, I want you to take Nova and get out of here. I don't know how much longer I can hold on." Draco hissed, his talons pricking the feather tick, a deep rumble quickly segued into a throaty growl, his teeth gnashing together.

Nova smiled and waved upon hearing her name. She tossed her stuffed toys to the ground and ran toward the couple. Nova didn't remember her mother as she'd never met the woman. It was easy for her to refer to any nice woman as 'mum' and she'd come across more than a few. She had liked the woman with the long black hair, but the woman had fallen asleep never to awake.

"Mummy?" Nova climbed into Hermione's lap, gurgling in a nonsensical sort of way before yanking Hermione's dark curls.

"No honey, I'm not your mummy. I'm not anyone's mummy." Nova chortled, happy to sit in the witch's lap and pull on her hair.

Draco's breathy gasps increased, pink splotches smattering his pale skin. Mandy and Sally were remiss to approach them, but as it seemed Malfoy was in a state, they thought it would be best to take Nova. Reluctantly, Hermione handed the tot over, with a quick kiss to the forehead and promises to see her soon.

Her heart thumped in a way she didn't quite understand as Nova waved happily in Mandy's arms. She studied her fingers rather than meet Harry's enquiring eyes and he vacated the room soon after, dragging a curious Megan behind him. Hermione knew he was intent upon solving the mystery surrounding Theo and Daphne's untimely arrival.

* * *

"He has The Fever." Apolline Delacour removed her heeled boots and padded softly into the blindingly bright room.

She studied Draco carefully, concern etched in her forehead. Apolline silently removed her plum robes, revealing a simple, yet elegant silver pantsuit. Her tented fingers tapped her lips, considering the best way to broach the subject with an obviously distraught witch.

"What's wrong with him? Will he be alright?" Hermione gnawed the corner of her lip, continuously stroking Draco's pink cheeks.

"I realise you're quite an intelligent witch. I suppose you've spent your entire life weighing the pros and cons of every situation before coming to a decision. I imagine you were the witch your friends turned toward when they required any speck of information, and you soared to the top of not only your classes, but also anything you set your mind. It's an admirable quality really." Apolline easily transfigured the high backed chair Megan had vacated into a plush chair.

"What does that have to do with…"

"Please Ms. Granger, do not interrupt." Apolline unwound her blonde hair, raking her fingers across her scalp and crossed her legs. "He would have been alright for a bit longer. It would have given you ample time to pore over many a book and perhaps even read Narcissa's journals. You would have appreciated such things. I'm afraid you no longer have the time."

"It's…my fault? I'm…making him ill due to my…reluctance? Is that what you're saying?" Apolline was more than aware the poor girl was on the brink of hysteria and wearily shook her head.

"My dear, it would be exceedingly easy to lie to you." She pinched the bridge of her nose, a gentle throb strumming behind her eyes. "You care for him, perhaps you even love him. I'm not one to presume. It's quite obvious to me, your trepidation lies in your inability to fathom your future. It goes to reason a witch with your intellect overcompensates in order to suppress the underlying self-esteem issues, which have plagued you since childhood. Don't bother to protest Ms. Granger, I can smell it rolling off you in waves. It's quite disconcerting to say the least." Apolline leaned forward, perching her elbow on her knee, and studied the nervous witch.

"_She's a nightmare, honestly. It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends." __  
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."  
_"_Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.  
__"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"  
__"Obliviate."_

"Stop it." Hermione hissed, "You think if you just pick through my brain, without my permission mind you, that you know me? You don't know fuck all about me."

"Are you always so defensive? My dear, there's really no reason. I'm here to help you and more to the point to aid Draco."

"What is the purpose of dredging through my past? Do you think I'm completely oblivious? I know what I am. I know there are those who will never accept me, but make no mistake, I _am_ a witch." Hermione's chest was heaving, her skin prickling with humiliation and fury.

"Yes, you are quite the witch aren't you? One third of the Golden Trio, top marks in your O.W.L.s as well as your N.E.W.T.s, you're quite accomplished in your own right, but that doesn't negate your feelings on the matter. You can't deny them, Ms. Granger, I can sense them and you're easy to read. You were offered a position in the Ministry for Magic and you turned it down. You could have done quite well for yourself there, but instead, I believe you said you wished to do something more with your life. And yes, you have taken in the discarded scraps, the abandoned children and now even elves, searching for the validation, which may never come. The problem isn't society, Ms. Granger, it's you." Apolline Delacour's painted lips pressed together in a thing line, while she observed the wide range of emotions flickering through Hermione's brown eyes.

"How can you say that? How can you even think that? The problem isn't me at all! My parents have rejected me because I have a spark of magic but even in the magical world, I'm treated as nothing more than dirt. The war is bloody over…"

"The war will _never_ be over you naïve girl. There will always be those clinging to the old ideals, but what do they matter? You have done the unthinkable, which is why they detest you. You have taken their ancient pureblood ideals and ground them to dust. They believe a woman of your stature does not deserve her magic and what did you do? You put their pureblood children to shame at every turn. It no longer has anything to do with your blood and the sooner you come to terms with that, the better." Apolline raised her thin eyebrows, daring the girl to refute her words and it seemed as though the young witch deflated.

Hermione slumped against Draco Malfoy, wrapping his arm around her waist and staring at his long fingers. She hated the inflection in Apolline's voice and the truth in her words. Hermione knew Apolline wasn't wrong, but she wasn't right either. It was a fine line and she had spent so many years walking it, she barely recognised herself.

"Molly made such a fuss when I broke things off with Ron. She tried to mean it, really, she did, but it always rang false. She hovered over me whenever I visited the Burrow and I let her. Merlin knows my own mother certainly wasn't going to. It was easy to let her. It was easy to allow myself to be lulled by a false sense of family, of security even. I know Ron told her. He swore he didn't, but I could see the pity in her eyes. It's not her fault, it's not anyone's fault, well that's not entirely true now is it…" Hermione refused to allow her tears to fall. She'd fallen victim to her emotions more times than she could count and now wasn't the time.

"Dolohov. He's to blame. There's no need to put up a front with me, Ms. Granger." Apolline crossed the room to retrieve the firewhiskey, leaving her manners behind, and sipped directly from the bottle.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione glanced down at Draco, the hard glint in her eyes softening as she pushed back the damp hair clinging to his forehead.

"The Fever. It's a little known affliction affecting Veela. Narcissa is brewing a Potion. It will aid in alleviating the symptoms for the time being. It seems young Mr. Malfoy has managed to Mark you in his way own. I suppose he wished to alleviate the never-ending urge to bind himself to you. It would have worked if it weren't for the child."

"Nova? I don't understand…I seem to be saying that quite a lot lately." Hermione sniffed while wiping her cheeks and Apolline the moment of truth had arrived.

"The Mark of Fidelity isn't simply for your protection. Yes, it will keep you from being accosted and considering today's events, I'm sure it set Draco's mind at ease. However, it also exacerbates the Veela's innate desire to procreate. I'm assuming your reaction and protectiveness toward the child simply set everything in motion. You had no way of knowing, I doubt Draco knew either." Apolline offered a half shrug, taking quite a long draught from the bottle and waited.

"You bloody well know I was told the chances of having a child of my own were nonexistent. Dolohov's unique curse was quite adept and while it didn't kill me, it did ensure my future." Hermione plucked the hem of her Slytherin green dress, avoiding the probing gaze of the older perceptive witch with ease.

"Silly girl, for the brightest witch of your age, you're exceedingly dim. Magic holds healing properties. It was only a matter of time before your magic healed your wounds, my dear. For the love of Merlin, Draco practically handed you the information, but I assume you couldn't find the time to research the stones?" Hermione groaned, slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand.

"The bloodstone…" Hermione's golden brown eyes were wide with realisation, "Ginny told me about some of them, and I had always intended to study them further. Time just got away from me." Apolline smothered a short laugh as it was obvious Hermione Granger was most disgruntled by her inability to solve a mystery unaided. "I'm scared. It's saying a lot considering I rode a bloody dragon."

"He'll never hurt you."

"He really was quite horrid to me when we were in school. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to come to terms with the idea that he loves me?" Hermione was freely crying now, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, and shaking her head.

"Lucius has a scar on his arse. Apparently Narcissa struck him with a particularly powerful Stinging Hex while they were in school." Apolline snickered as the thought always made her full of joy.

"What if…"

"Think of this way," Apolline interrupted, quickly tiring of their conversation, "if you hadn't ever been struck by Antonin Dolohov, Draco would have claimed you on his seventeenth birthday. Can you imagine the tension? The war had barely ended and his parents, stubborn fools, refused to entertain the notion of his Veela heritage."

"Great Godric, we'd be in the midst of another war…" Hermione shuddered and while Draco had fallen into a fitful slumber, it didn't stop him from holding her tight.

"Exactly Ms. Granger, now for the sake of us all, take Mr. Malfoy home and accept your future."


	14. Of Puppets & Consummations

Of Puppets &amp; Consummations

* * *

Three days had passed before Theodore Nott made use of the Brand.

Coincidentally, it was same number of days Draco Malfoy required in order to recover from The Fever. Apolline refused to use the word 'recovered', instead insisting his mother's Potion had only eased the symptoms, but he was a stubborn man and ignored her. He was vaguely aware of fading in and out of consciousness, feeling as if he were being burned alive, but it had passed.

He enjoyed waking with soft, golden brown curls in his mouth, and a warm supple body beside him. He more than enjoyed the way she was always curled around him, just so. He would have enjoyed much more than that, but he barely remembered the past few days, therefore he couldn't do anything more than enjoy her warmth.

His limbs were heavy and it was trying to do much more than wiggle his fingers, but he was determined to touch her. He dragged his palm along the light sheet, curious as to her nightwear. He smirked as she huddled into the warmth, mumbling as he drew the sheet from her person. Of course, the second his cool fingertips grazed her bare shoulder, her eyes flew open.

"You're awake!" Hermione sat up quickly, tossing the sheet off her and leapt from the bed.

"It would appear so, Granger." Draco smirked, despite his raspy voice, though his eyes hinted of promise when he caught sight of her bare legs.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and shook her head, before pulling on a pair of lounge pants. Draco pouted slightly, displeased with losing sight of any inch of her. She handed him a small amber bottle she'd retrieved from the nightstand, waiting patiently for him to drink.

"Don't look at me like that. You've nothing to worry about. It's simply a Pepper-Up Potion and Apolline said it would help you regain proper use of your limbs."

He allowed her to press the bottle to his lips, appreciating her gentle hands and the way she ignored the tremble of his palms. He didn't mind the generous view of her cleavage either. In fact, he knew if he had been capable of more than swallowing, she would be on her back, but such things would have to wait, no matter how much it happened to vex him.

"How long?" Draco cleared his throat noisily, his lip twitching with displeasure.

He'd never been particularly fond of being weak. Merlin knows he'd heard the words enough from his psychotic aunt, not to mention Voldemort. He refused to seamlessly fall into the darkest period of his life without good reason. He wasn't weak. He wasn't a coward. He wasn't anything they said he was, but it didn't change the fact he detested his current physical limitations.

"Three days. Apolline says you won't need much in order to function properly. However, you'll need to take the Potion every twelve hours in order to retain your faculties. Narcissa has brewed enough to last you the week. I suppose she assumes you won't need it much longer than that but I…"

"You're leaping ahead so quickly you're causing my head to ache, Granger." Draco reclined upon the stack of pillows and closed his eyes. "In case it has escaped your attention, I'm currently unable to do much more than lie here. Your virtue is in no present danger from me." Hermione gnawed the corner of her bottom lip, carefully contemplating his words.

She'd spent many a night considering her position. She was used to maintaining control and it was near impossible for her to entertain the idea she was caught in a magical web of which there was no return. The moment she allowed him to Mark her, Hermione knew she would be his. In her mind, it was akin to ownership and it didn't sit well with her in the least. He'd always known how she felt, perhaps before she was aware, and it set her on edge. Hermione Granger had always been a private sort of witch, keeping her emotions in check and a logical head on her shoulders, but Draco Malfoy changed everything.

"I can hear you thinking, Granger. Go on then, get it all off your chest."

"You can hear me thinking?!" Hermione squeaked, rummaging through the bureau near the door for a cardigan to stave off her chill.

"Not literally, but you tap your bloody toes and drum your fingernails upon any surface really. Also, I'm hungry, starving really, so if you're going to barrage me with more questions than the O.W.L.s, could I at least have a bite to eat?" Draco's eyes remained closed, but he knew she was feeling guilty for remaining trapped in her little world.

Moments later, Rosie, his tiny house elf stepped into the bedchamber with a silver tray, laden with delectable treats. Draco's stomach responded noisily, bringing a small smile to Hermione's lips. He struggled to pour his own cup of tea, yet she knew it was something he needed to do for himself. She patiently waited while he sampled the scones beside his platter of full English breakfast. Draco gestured with his fork and Hermione swallowed her trepidation.

"Apolline explained to me your illness is The Fever. I understand why it happens and I know you're not pressuring me, but I feel an…obligation if you will."

"And despite Apolline's assurances, you're still wary…"

"Yes, well no, I suppose, but I need more information." Hermione sat near the foot of the bed, her hands folded in her lap.

"But of course, you're Hermione Granger. It's terribly difficult to concentrate when you insist upon chewing your lip. It's distracting and I'm not quite up to the task of ravishing you, but I can give it a go, if you'd like?" Draco calmly sipped his tea, arching a blond eyebrow over the cup, teasingly.

"Not until you're better." The tea spattered from between his lips so quickly, Draco hadn't a chance to lift a hand to cover his lips. "You didn't expect me to let you wallow in misery forever, did you?" Hermione released her lip and quickly yanked her hair into a hasty bun.

The surge of Magic simmering in his veins, coursing through his tight limbs was akin to being set on fire, yet Draco Malfoy simply flinched. The subtle, yet telling admission she would submit brought him roaring back to life faster than any Potion. He breathed deeply, clenching his abdomen in order to keep his groan contained. Draco had to have her, waiting was no longer an option.

"Granger, ward the door. I'm well aware of my mother and Apolline patiently waiting in the sitting room and I've no intention of being interrupted again." Hermione blushed prettily, recalling their prior amorous activities and surprisingly did as she was bid.

"You're not well and there are things we need to discuss and…" Hermione hastily laid her wand on the bureau after carefully warding the door, her nerves on end, and her anxiety high.

"Granger, shut up. Come here."

* * *

Theodore Nott carefully surveyed his surroundings. He was quite pleased with his home. It was of his own making, considering he'd burned his father house to the ground after his death. Theo had hated the man, despised the very air he'd managed to breathe, and had no qualms expressing such derision.

While he combed his dirty blonde hair, he studied his thin face in the mirror above his bureau. He was nervous, and he wasn't fond of the feeling in the least. Theo had every intention of utilising the Brand, ever so grateful Voldemort had sought fit to teach him such magicks. However, he'd never allowed a witch, any witch, into his home, not even Daphne.

He hadn't told her what he'd done, but she wasn't stupid. She didn't care in the least, it wasn't as if they had true affections for each other. They were simply brought together by a common goal. Theo slammed his fist into the glass, forcing great puffs of air through his lips at the very thought of Draco Malfoy.

He shook his head quickly and straightened his dark robes. With a scowl, he rethought his decision and removed them to reveal a simple olive green button down and dark slacks. He didn't have the time to reflect upon his hatred of Draco Malfoy. No, Theodore Nott had better things to do with his time.

He liked the bloody witch and it was wrecking more than a little havoc in his carefully laid plans. He'd noticed her years before, surreptitiously watching her hips sway through the drafty corridors of Hogwarts. Theo reconsidered sending for her, but in the end, his selfishness won out.

The same moment Theo Nott was reconsidering his actions, Megan Jones was putting the tots down for their morning nap. She smiled brightly, brushing curls off foreheads and kissing cheeks when the tingling sensation began. Her smile faltered, yet she continued in her endeavors, covering sleepy infants and toddlers with soft blankets.

"Megan? Are you done here?" Sally-Anne Perks waved congenially from the doorway, glancing at the babes in their cots.

"Daisy cried for a bit, but she finally settled down. I suspect they'll be out for at least an hour." Megan gasped, rubbing her palms harshly on her arms.

"Are you alright? You look a little flush…" Sally tied off her black apron, her trainers squeaking on the tile as she made her way to Megan.

"No, I don't feel particularly well. D'ya think you could ask the elves to aid you with the babes?" Megan lurched on her feet, her spring green dress swaying as she shook the film from her eyes.

Megan blinked a few times, her light eyelashes fluttering frantically and then she was walking. She knew Sally was calling her, but she couldn't answer her. She had to leave. She had to Apparate to Diagon Alley. She had to step into the Leaky Cauldron and wait in the shadows.

She wasn't afraid, which was surprising. It wasn't as if she couldn't control her actions, she could, she simply did not wish too. It was a yearning, a burning if you will, coursing through her veins.

Megan smiled and waved at the few wizards and witches she came across in the Leaky Cauldron. They didn't give her a second glance, though Ginny Weasley eyed her curiously. Megan weaved through the worn tables and sat in the furthest corner, in the shadows, and waited.

A few moments later, she felt a warm hand on the back of her neck. The fire in her veins cooled slightly as the fingers massaged her supple skin. Megan sighed and then the palm was on her shoulder, before quickly reaching for her hand. She stood without preamble and instantly an arm wrapped around her waist.

"You're not to tell anyone of this meeting or subsequent ones. Nod if you understand." The breathy whisper caused the gooseflesh to rise on her arms and Megan Jones nodded slowly.

She was led through a hidden door and they were in a narrow alley. Megan had never noticed it before, but she really didn't have a chance to inspect her surroundings. She was curious to see who was leading her away, but before she could turn her head, she became a victim of Side-Along-Apparition. Megan gasped as she felt the hard body behind her, squeezing them along and then they were falling.

She spun, grasping the shoulders of the wizard who held her and stared. She recognised him instantly, and while she knew there should have been some sort of revulsion from his previous actions, she was warily intrigued. Secretly, Megan had always fancied what Sally-Anne had called 'bad boys' and well, Theodore Nott definitely fit the concept. However, the persistent feelings of guilt and betrayal made her nervous.

"Ohh, you're not a true Puppet, now are you? No, I think not. It seems Ms. Jones is fond of being naughty. I do believe I can aid with that. How absolutely delightful, I knew there was something about you. Would you like to come and play?" Theo smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Megan knew something about eyes. She'd spent most of her years at Hogwarts studying them. She supposed it came with being a Hufflepuff. She was proud of her house and had learned early on, the truth lies in the eyes. His eyes were concealing his true feelings. It was painfully obvious to her and eased her anxiety.

She knew he had a fair bit of fear, though she couldn't pinpoint the reason. It would have been impossible without a copious number of questions, but Megan knew Theo would never stand for such a thing. He had an agenda and while she had come to him without the slightest trace of a choice, Megan remained under her own volition.

Theo led her through the sparse shrubs toward a cobblestone path, which happened to lead to a delightful brownstone. Megan was expecting something much more grand, considering Theo had inherited his father's entire fortune, but at the same time, it suited him. It was dark and yet also inviting, with the small white flowers decorating the greenery growing up the front of the brick building.

"What do you want from me?" Megan inquired, suddenly resisting the fingers entwined with hers as they stood on the front stoop.

Theo studied her spiral curls, and light lashes hidden behind square spectacles, with interest. His dark eyes perused her bust and the way the tiny buttons screamed at being forced to confine her. His gaze lingered on her thick thighs, revealed by a subtle breeze, before meeting her eyes once more. He winked when Megan blushed, his long fingers gently stroking her cheek.

"I do believe I'll be taking a fair bit of advantage of you and I reckon you'll enjoy it."

* * *

"We've had a good run, yeah?" Blaise Zabini casually tossed his arm around Ginny Weasley's shoulders and smiled down at her.

"I suppose we did. It was nice to fool ourselves for a bit. It's funny, I didn't even realise it fully until I saw you with Megan." Ginny dropped her head to his chest with a small smile, grateful they could end their relationship on good terms.

"It was the same for me really. You're fooling yourself, you realise? I mean, I was quite content playing the part of boyfriend, but once I saw Megan, I knew everything we were trying to have was wrong. You're a great witch, but you're not the witch for me. You have a wizard and frankly the sop is completely besotted with you." Blaise crossed his legs, enjoying the gently breeze while they sat on a park bench.

"I wanted someone to look at me the way you looked at her. I mean, being friends with logical Hermione makes it almost impossible to believe in things such as love at first sight, but seeing you with her, made me a believer." Ginny pulled a few wayward red strands from her mouth, staring at a group of Muggles in the distance.

"I can't tell you I have a future with Megan, but the idea, the feelings, evoked something and I'd like to investigate it further. I wouldn't go calling it love at first sight or any of that feminine nonsense." Blaise chuckled lightly, giving the forlorn red-haired witch a pensive glance. "You've never seen the way McLaggen looks at you, I gather?" Blaise withdrew his arm, stretching them over his head with a loud groan.

"It was a passing fancy. I never should have gotten involved with him in the first place. I allowed it to ruin my relationship with Harry, and while that might have been the best thing that ever could have happened, it doesn't change the fact I hurt him." Ginny covered her face with her hands for a moment, relieved the tears no longer came.

"Megan might be a fucking Puppet, but there's something about her. I'm going to pursue her, despite Nott's involvement. I don't care what happens between them and if Potter had cared about you, he would have forgiven you. Go and see McLaggen would you? Take a look in those pompous eyes of his and see what's there. You might be surprised." Blaise ruffled her red hair and shoved his hands in his pockets before jaunting down the street.

Ginny watched until he disappeared and stood on shaky limbs. She brushed a few fallen leaves from her black skirt, pulling her cloak tighter around her midriff. She contemplated Blaise Zabini's words carefully, searching for falsehood, but coming up empty. She was more than aware her thoughts often wandered toward Cormac McLaggen, but Ginny didn't wish to repeat her errors. However, no matter how many times he flitted across her thoughts, she couldn't bear to admit he was a mistake.

She knew he was a pompous arse. She'd always known. It was impossible to pretend anything different. He hadn't changed overly much from their Hogwarts days, but he was different with her. He'd always been different with her and that was the draw.

Ginny was barely aware she had Apparated until her knuckles were rapping against the hardwood door of his flat. Sleepy brown eyes met hers as he flung the door open, before he blinked with surprise. He didn't say a word, simply holding the door wide with expectation.

She stepped into the familiar flat, pleased to see it hadn't changed much. She removed her cloak and set it on the armchair. Cormac watched her every move with cautious eyes, expecting her to lash out at him. Instead, she turned on her heel and stared into his eyes and waited.

"I told you never to come here, unless you were going to stay." Cormac crossed his arms, accentuating the rippling muscles of his unclad torso.

Ginny lightly stepped forward, maintaining eye contact. When there were only mere inches between them, she placed her hands on his shoulders and took a long, slow breath. She swallowed audibly and blinked, releasing the breath so slowly, Cormac shivered as it brushed across his skin.

"I remember."

* * *

Draco Malfoy snapped his fingers and Rosie immediately appeared, removing the traces of his breakfast. She nodded toward Hermione, disappearing without a word. Hermione moved ever so slowly across the hardwood, until she nervously stood near his bedside.

He swung his feet to the floor, causing her to gasp, but he grasped the ties of her cardigan before she was able to retreat. With a teasing smile, he wound the tie around his hand, slowly dragging her forward, until she was wedged between his knees.

"Y-you're not well…" Hermione breathed, her heart pounding furiously beneath her ribs.

"You'd be surprised how quickly I've recovered." Nimble fingers maneuvered wooden toggles until the cardigan was spread wide.

Hermione blinked and she was falling, falling into strong arms, falling into the thick feather tick. Draco buried his head in her curls, his arms pulling her to his chest, holding her tight, before rolling to his side, effectively pinning her with his chest. She remained stock-still, unsure of his intentions, yet he remained still. It was almost as if he required the comfort from her close proximity and she relaxed, causing him to sigh.

"Malfoy?" Hermione stroked his back, to calm her nerves more than to ease his tension, more than aware of his smooth skin beneath her palms.

"Your temperature is rising. Your pulse is racing. Your respirations are increasingly laboured. Tell me you don't want me." Draco punctuated each sentence with small open-mouthed kisses along her throat.

"That's not the point." Hermione bit back the moan in her throat upon feeling his hot tongue swipe across her earlobe.

"I suppose it's not." Draco sighed, pecking her lips quickly, studying the caramel brown of her eyes. "My little Gryffindor is filled with tension, I really should do something about that." The corner of his lips lifted, while his right hand strayed beneath her plain sleeveless shirt. "Where has all your courage gone?"

Hermione refused to break his gaze, her tiny pants filling the silence. His eyes darkened significantly as he palmed her soft breast, avoiding the dusky peak begging for attention. He sensed her frustration as much as he could feel her want, and shifted between her thighs.

"I d-don't wish to be property." Hermione finally breathed, more than aware of his arousal pressing into her thigh.

"I am yours, as you are mine." Draco braced his weight on his elbows, flexing his hips with a wanton wink. "We'll spend our lives rescuing children and clothing elves." The silky smooth quality of his voice was soothing and Hermione's lids half closed, despite his firm hands stroking her sides, exposing her breasts.

"I…I assumed…you'd prefer me…to remain…h-home…" Hermione's resolve crumbled, her fingers firmly gripping fine platinum locks, dragging his lips to hers.

"I'm not my father. I wouldn't dream of forcing the ever esteemed Hermione Granger to do anything other than she wishes. By all means, my entire fortune is at your disposal, do with it what you will, love." Draco growled, her fingertips scratching his skull, yanking his hair.

Draco's sense of control dissipated the moment her tiny hands touched his bare chest. He shut his eyes tight, purring loudly before tearing her out of her pyjamas. He ripped the hair clasp from her curls, hurtling it across the room, his eyes obsidian black.

Hermione choked on the whimper lodged in her throat, practically bare before him. He grasped her wrists in an ironclad hold, dragging them over her head and pinning them to the feather tick. The low growl didn't alarm her, considering his lips were paying homage to her throat, her cheeks, even her eyelids.

"W-what if you're wrong? If I c-can't provide an heir…oh gods…" Hermione's eyes rolled shut while nimble fingers slid dampened knickers down her thighs.

Draco propped her ankle on his shoulder, decorating the inside of her thigh with feather light kisses. He studied the dual puncture marks, pressing his thumb against the light scars. The jolt of magic wasn't something he had anticipated, though it was pleasant. His left hand continuously stroked her raised leg, his fangs pricking his bottom lip as gooseflesh rose across her flushed skin. Draco hissed through his teeth, inhaling deeply as Hermione's arousal became apparent. He couldn't help but to swipe his thumb along her sex, his knees weakening upon her responses.

"It's magic love, magic is never wrong." Slowly Draco lowered her leg, his palms kneading her thighs.

"Where are your clothes?" Hermione's frightened gasp amused him as he carefully wedged himself between her thighs.

"Haven't a need for them…" Draco mumbled against her breast, teasing the hard peak with his teeth.

She blushed heavily, feeling his impressive erection graze the throbbing point at the apex of her thighs. Draco winked, hastily capturing her lips in a searing kiss. His teeth caught her bottom lip, sucking hard until she gasped, giving him ample opportunity to thrust his tongue into her warm mouth, tasting her. Hermione clung to his shoulders, her heaving breasts scraping his chest, his long fingers stroking between her legs.

Draco's chest rumbled in appreciation when Hermione drew her knees up, her slick heat cascading over the tips of his thrusting fingers as he teased her. He felt the tightening of her limbs, heard the subtle gasps that quickly segued into moans as he brushed across her throbbing nub.

There was nothing he wanted more than to take his cock in hand and plunge into her, but he knew it would be painful. He wanted Hermione to have a few moments of enjoyment before it was stripped from her. He groaned into her throat, his body shuddering as her pulse reverberated against his lips.

"Draco." Hermione's head thrashed side to side, her golden brown curls bouncing with her strangled moan, as her body stiffened with her explosive release.

Hermione's eyes snapped open, staring up into the pained dark eyes of Draco Malfoy. She held her breath, mixed feelings of trepidation and desire, quickly pushed aside the moment she felt his length probe her entrance. She stiffened, his hand on her thigh, but Draco lowered his forehead to hers, distracting her with the sort of kiss that made Hermione forget everything else.

Her sweat slicked body responded of its own accord, her back arching off the warm sheets while she clung to him. Her fingernails dug into his hips and Draco was no longer capable of resisting. He flexed his hips, a low growl turned slowly into a purr as he sheathed himself within her. His confliction reared its angry head upon feeling her pain laced with discomfort.

Draco couldn't help but to still, waiting for Hermione to adjust to the uncomfortable sensation and his ample size. His fingertips brushed her cheeks, removing the faint traces of tears. Hermione dragged her hands along his sides, feeling his warm skin quiver. Lightly she touched his cheek, unsure.

No matter how many books Hermione Granger had read on the subject of copulation, they didn't prepare her for the sensations of it all. She was uncomfortable, more from her own embarrassment than the discomfort. There was something about his tenderness that struck her and a surge of unknown emotion flowed from her. She knew he could feel it, as the furrow of his brow cleared, and he placed his lips so lightly against hers, she wasn't sure they were even there, until he began to move.

He had dreamt of this moment, yet he never imagined it feeling as good as it did. Beads of sweat trickled down his temple as he reined in the animalistic desire to take her hard and fast. Draco struggled, keeping his tempo slow and steady, reveling in the sensation of her tight, slick heat, clinging to him.

Hermione brought her arms between their bodies in order to explore his chiseled chest. Her thumbs brushed across his pink nipples, pleased when his soft purr filled her ears. He had dropped his head to her shoulder, inhaling deeply against her throat.

She knew he was restraining himself for her sake, and she appreciated it, but the building sensation strumming through her veins was making her impatient. Hermione gripped his forearms and tested her hypothesis. She moved against him, awkwardly at first, but quickly finding her rhythm, causing Draco to gasp.

"Give me your hand." His lips grazed her ear and she quickly acquiesced to his demand, flexing her hips as his pace increased.

Draco threaded their fingers together, slowly dragging their entwined hands over Hermione's head. Her eyes were half closed, her pink plump lips slightly parted and when she caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, he was almost a goner. Her tiny pants and whimpers were growing to a crescendo and Draco knew the moment was almost upon them. He kissed her then, hard, and bruising, their magic meeting, and swirling in the air, causing a hum in their ears.

Draco pulled away, the heat in his body, building to boiling point. He nipped the small area just above her collarbone, suddenly anxious. The open mouthed kisses became longer and longer under he was suckling her skin. Hermione braced herself upon feeling his sharp teeth scrape against her skin.

"Hermione love, relax." His soft words belied his unease as his fingers dug into her hip, holding her still.

Hermione shivered, her heart fluttering frantically. She couldn't recall a time she'd heard her name fall so easily from his lips. She sighed softly and it caught in her throat. She struggled to breathe, crying out as Draco bore down.

His fangs easily pierced her lightly tanned skin. He tightened his hold on her hand, clenched his jaw, and shuddered, moaning his completion against her throat. Draco continued to thrust slowly, twisting his hips and slowly the fiery burn lighting Hermione, burst into a cacophony of nonsensical words laced with moans, pants, and groans.

Draco managed to avoid collapsing on her chest, shifting suddenly at the last moment to fall beside her. Hermione's lashes fluttered while she wavered between being completely mystified and slumber. She was more than aware of the subtle throb near her collarbone, yet it no longer caused her pain.

She could feel the magic flowing through her, causing a blush upon her sweat-slicked skin. Her lips pressed together, even as Draco drew her into his arms with a light hum, the only sound beyond his laboured breaths. Her palm rested over his heart and Hermione realised their hearts beat as one.

"Can you feel it?" Draco trilled softly, his hand constantly moving along her spine.

Hermione hummed her affirmation, finally realising it was his contentment wrecking havoc with her emotions. She found it slightly disconcerting to be so aware of his emotions, shocked by the depth of them as she burrowed into his side. To be honest, it was incredibly overwhelming and while Hermione Granger was never one to cease in the quest for knowledge, for a moment she wondered if she should have studied Draco Malfoy's heritage more than she had.

"Already Granger? I expected a bit more time before you began to doubt…"

"I'm not doubting." Hermione interrupted him quickly, thumping her fingertips against his heart. "I'm simply contemplating this newfound connection. I'm…well, to be honest, I'm completely overwhelmed. You have to admit it's more than a bit to take in all at once…and I…" Draco smothered Hermione with his lips, cutting off her nervous, rambling words. He explored the now familiar recesses of her mouth with ease as she offered no resistance.

"You talk too much." Draco smirked, keeping his lips a hairs breadth from hers, as he enjoyed the flush on her cheeks so. "We'll get used to it, I suppose. It's a learning curve. It's not as though I've experienced such things before either."

"Draco…" Hermione grunted, completely disgruntled yet how suddenly aware of her nudity. "You can't be serious…again?" She gasped while Draco toyed with her sensitive breasts and the curve of her hip.

"It's my name on your lips that does it apparently. I can't imagine a time I'll ever get my fill of you, so yes Granger, again. Perhaps after, I'll send for a bite to eat, and in the wee small hours of the morning, we can have a rest." Draco smiled and Hermione was lost.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy glanced about her son's modest home and refrained from sneering. It wasn't up to her standards, but she supposed it would do, for now. She sipped from a chipped China teacup, mentally reminding herself to repair it before she left as she glanced over at Apolline.

Apolline Delacour ignored the tension in the air and sipped a liberal amount of firewhiskey from her floral teacup. While she was well aware of the fact Draco had Silenced his bedroom, she wasn't a fool. She refrained from commenting only due to the fact she did not wish to upset Narcissa's delicate sensibilities. She also assumed, correctly so, the Matriarch wouldn't wish to receive the intimate details of her son's amorous activities.

Suddenly, Narcissa gasped, her teacup tumbling from her hands, landing with a harsh shatter on the impeccable hardwood. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of loss. A single tear dripped from her left eye as she placed her hand over her heart.

"He's Marked her." Narcissa whispered, well aware of the fact she could no longer search for her son's angst amidst her own emotions. Apolline sighed heavily and arched a singular blonde eyebrow.

"Well, thank fuck for that."


	15. Of Mice & Men

**AN: These have just become habit at this point. Enjoy.**

* * *

Of Mice &amp; Men

* * *

Hermione Granger hummed lightly under her breath while she traversed her Foundation. She hefted the clingy toddler on her hip, clucking her tongue when the child wound her fingers in Hermione's pearl necklace once more. She frowned as yet another report of shenanigans graced her desk.

"Those boys are naughty, aren't they?" Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering if Josiah and Nathaniel were ever going to settle into their new home.

They really were delightful boys, if a bit incorrigible. In fact, they quite reminded her of Fred and George. Hermione knew they were going to be more than a handful and dreaded the influx of owls once they finally attended Hogwarts.

"Mummy." Nova whispered, her legs swinging frantically while she continuously yanked on Hermione's pearls.

She had given up trying to convince the toddler otherwise. Apparently, Nova had numerous nicknames for all the witches tending her and it seemed they were all some variation of 'mum'. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and swallowed hard.

She recognised the man, how could she not? His huge hulking form obstructed most of the sunlight wafting in, and she pinned Nova to her chest. His broad chest tested the confines of his jumper and Hermione's fingers twitched toward her wand. If it came to a physical altercation, she hadn't a chance of survival, not with the fiery glint of rage in the wizard's wide eyes.

He scratched his close cropped blond hair with ragged fingernails, and drew his wand from his laced boots. He flicked it at the door behind him and Hermione knew he'd warded the door. She stepped back, skirting around the edge of her desk, feeling the slightest bit of safety with the mahogany between them.

"You really think that can save you, Mudblood?" Hermione refused to cower beneath his hard stare, though his rough voice shattered her nerves.

"What do you want? There's nothing here except children."

"You're here. Set the tot down, Mudblood." His thick fingers stroked the edge of her desk. He licked his thick, chapped lips and narrowed his blue eyes in warning. "You're protected by that cowardly Malfoy. No need to be afraid. As if I'd lower myself to fuck _you_, Mudblood."

Hermione lowered Nova to the ground, achingly slow. Her eyes were flitting about her office, wondering if she was fast enough to get passed him, but she couldn't leave Nova to her own devices. The large window to the right of her desk was too high for her to risk tossing the tot into the garden, and this wizard wasn't inept. While she knew her bracelet afforded her some protection, she wasn't positive it could protect her from death.

Hermione pushed a whimpering Nova under Cormac's desk and placed a Shield Charm over her. She squared her shoulders and gripped her wand tightly. It would have been easy to shout a spell, but Hermione knew he was expecting it. She knew he was powerful and the last time she'd triumphed over him had been pure luck really.

"You remember me then, Mudblood?" His hot breath washed over her face as Hermione hadn't realised how close he was standing.

"Thorfinn Rowle." Hermione's lips barely moved with the admission and Rowle smiled largely, baring his large white teeth.

"Lovely. Did you really think I would forget what you'd done to me?" Rowle shoved Hermione's desk to the side in one fluid motion, his muscles rippling beneath his tight navy jumper.

Hermione jumped, raising her wand, only to see it fly from her practiced fist into Rowle's outstretched hand. She'd never even heard him utter a sound, almost impressed with his magical ability. She backed away from his hulking figure slowly, her dark eyes darting toward the door, which only elicited his laughter.

"Silly witch. You'd never make it, but you're welcome to try." A fat, clenched fist slammed into the wall nearest her head and Hermione couldn't help but to scuttle away from him.

Her skirt tore in the scuffle and Rowle was rewarded with a vision of pale, creamy thighs. He had no intention of soiling himself with such filth, but he wasn't above a leer. Thorfinn Rowle knew better than to touch her bracelet. He'd studied the bloody Malfoys for years, knowing of the boy's heritage before even Draco did.

"You smell good for a Mudblood." Rowle chuckled, winding a fist in her curls and dragging her across the room.

Hermione groaned in agitation. Her hands were wrapped around the door handle, but Rowle was faster than she had anticipated. She grappled with the air, tears of frustration pricking the corner of her eyes just before Rowle slammed her into the hard stone.

"Dolohov always wanted a taste of you." Thorfinn chuckled darkly, stroking the pearls at Hermione's throat. "If I wanted, I could remove your little protection item and have my way with you. You should be thanking me for restraining, Mudblood."

"What do you want?!" Hermione pushed against his hard chest, pounding her fists, but they were completely ineffective. He gave her a final shove, standing slowly, and making a show of brushing off his slacks.

"I'd prefer if the Dark Lord was still in power. Perhaps then, Dolohov, Greyback and I could take our turns defiling ourselves with your cunt. I'm sure we would be rewarded for our efforts." Thorfinn twirled Hermione's wand between his thick fingers, just out of her reach. "Of course your lot ruined it, didn't you? Aye, ya did. I'd settle for Harry Potter's head on my plate, but you, you really fucked things didn't you? Did you really think your pathetic little Memory Charm would stop us? Sure, we were punished, but it only drove us harder. I want my life back you bitch."

"You belong in Azkaban." Hermione spat, refusing to cower before the powerful man.

"Maybe, but I've got your wand." Thorfinn Rowle flicked Hermione's wand and the small pearl buttons on her mint blouse fell to the floor.

Rowle laughed, a deep, dark, belly laugh while Hermione wrenched her blouse closed. He wasn't of a mind to inform her the protections didn't include her wand being used against her. He enjoyed the humiliating blush on her cheeks and the little gasps escaping her plump lips while he caused her skirts to fly up.

"Stop it! I'm a Mudblood, remember? You don't want to sully yourself with the likes of me." Hermione appealed to his sense of pureblood pride, not realising his intention was her humiliation.

She was having a difficult time keeping her blouse together and her skirts down, which was his purpose. Rowle's lazy wand work unclasped her bra and even managed to drag her knickers to the tops of her thighs. His knowledge of Dark Magic far exceeded even Hermione's expansive knowledge, for this is where he thrived.

"Mmhmm, I love your smart mouth. Keep lashing out and I'll shove my cock so far down your throat, I'll unhinge your jaw." Hermione's lips clamped together, despising his fingers touching her wand.

Rowle unzipped his slacks, his blue eyes boring into the hint of her cleavage. Hermione stared at the ceiling, knowing he was going to remove his arousal and flaunt it. True to form, Thorfinn Rowle leaned against her desk, slowly stroking his cock in a meaty fist.

"Rowle! What the fuck are you doing? Are you mad? You're going to get us all killed! You were only supposed to scare her, that's what you said!" Daphne Greengrass burst through the office door with her wand raised, her royal blue dress swishing at her knees.

"Haven't touched her. Come on then." Rowle gestured toward his long, thick erection, ignoring the rumpled, semi-nude Muggleborn witch.

"Now isn't the time for that. We've tarried for too long as it is and…" Daphne choked on her words as an unseen fist squeezed her throat.

She slammed the door behind her and slowly made her way toward Thorfinn. She'd never liked him, not even for a moment, but his expertise in the Dark Arts was why she bothered. She wanted power almost as much as she wanted Draco Malfoy.

"Where's Nott then?" Rowle grunted, perusing the tall brunette with a lustful eye.

"He's occupied with his Puppet."

"Good, climb on then."

Daphne dutifully stood in front of Rowle and lifted her skirts. He ripped off her knickers and had her straddling his thighs before she could blink. He forced her down onto the tip of his erection, groaning loudly as he forced himself within her.

"Get out of here Granger." Daphne called over her shoulder, her hips moving just the way the Death Eater loved most.

Hermione pieced together her clothes quickly. She gathered her wand from between Daphne's feet, grateful Rowle had dropped it in his quest to plow the other witch. She removed the Charm from Nova and scooped the crying toddler into her arms.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered while she yanked open the office door. She couldn't bear to look at the couple, but she knew Daphne deserved a word of thanks for her efforts.

"Don't thank me, Granger. Don't ever thank me."

* * *

"Weasley, you don't need me there. This is absolutely ridiculous. You don't bring an audience when you're planning on proposing to a woman. How is that the least bit romantic?" Draco Malfoy groaned, wishing he had accompanied Hermione to the Foundation rather than accepting Weasley's invitation.

"I don't know how to do this alright? You're her bloody mate, you're supposed to know things…" Ron wiped his sweaty palms on his corduroy pants and resisted the urge to shove the blond wizard beside him.

"You're her significant other. It is no longer my job nor is it my responsibility to know what makes Pansy happy. Why on earth did you not enlist Potter?" Draco tucked his pocket watch into his slacks, wondering how much time could pass before it was no longer rude to leave.

"Are you crazy? He's with Luna. She's scary. Do you know what she calls Harry? Well let me tell you. She calls him The Hogwarts Express. D'ya want to know why?"

"For the love of Merlin, I'll kill you with my bare hands." Draco shuddered, still wishing he could blast the memory of a naked bouncing Luna from his mind's eye.

"Ask her sometime." Ron laughed with more than a little unease and leaned on the glass of the jewelry counter. "Go on then, choose one." Ron gestured toward the array of engagement rings, his fingers leaving sticky streaks of sweat on the glass.

"Weasley, Pansy isn't going to give a rat's arse what it looks like. She's going to care you picked it yourself." Draco sighed, quickly perusing the rings.

He didn't particularly enjoy shopping, as he normally sent Rosie to procure whatever was necessary. Traversing Diagon Alley reminded him of his errant youth and his pompous ways and Draco didn't enjoy the reminder. How he had allowed bloody Ron Weasley, to convince him to choose a ring for Pansy was anyone's guess.

"Have you got one for Hermione?" Ron studied a rather hideous multi-gemmed ring, which hurt Draco's eyes. The shape was alright he supposed, considering Pansy adored flowers, but it was the tiny circular jewels that were the issue. Reds, greens, blues, and Draco believe he even saw a few pink gems as well before his eyes blurred.

"Unless you're planning on asking Pansy in the dark, and you wish that ring to be the beacon, you can't choose it. It's repulsive."

"I like it. Why don't you ask the dodgy wizard for a look see at that ring you keep pretending you're not looking at then?" Ron waved over the wrinkled balding wizard who kept careful watch on the unlikely duo.

"I've already got the girl Weasley, why on earth would I need a ring?" Draco dragged his eyes away from the unique ring, irritated with the other man's astute observations.

"Look, she's one of my best mates. I admit I went a tad overboard when I saw you lot together at that Muggle pub, but I'm trying here. Hermione isn't the sort of witch who is going to simply accept the whole Mark nonsense without some sort of commitment. She wants to get married and have a family of her own and no amount of strange Veela magic is going to change that." Ron pointed toward the flowered ring excitedly and even the balding wizard cringed as he removed it from the case.

Draco detested the idea that Ron Weasley of all people, was absolutely correct. He had been a bit of a fool to think he could keep his relationship with Hermione Granger so incredibly casual. Of course, in the eyes of the Ministry, now that they were bound, she was his wife, but as much as it irked him, Ron Weasley made an exceedingly valid point.

With a sigh, he gestured toward the last case on the left. The hobbling wizard smiled brightly, pleased to see the pale wizard didn't share the horrific taste of the red head. He removed the ring carefully, gently, as if it were precious and laid it in Draco's open hand.

"That's not even a diamond is it? Have you looked in your vault? I mean, you're a Malfoy and all, I'm sure there's some family heirloom that's more impressive than that…" Ron's nose crinkled, his eyes constantly straying to the lotus flower ring he'd chosen for Pansy.

"Weasley, you're an imbecile. You're absolutely correct, she's Hermione Granger, and I'm Draco Malfoy. Yes, I have a vault filled with ridiculously large pieces of jewelry that have enough enchantments on them to bring even you to your knees. I'm not looking to mutilate her. Tell me about this ring." Draco nodded toward the elderly wizard, who was eager to please.

"Goblin forged, yellow opal, yellow gold, decorative diamonds on either side."

"Yes, thanks, I do have eyes. Can you tell me of the enchantments?" The elderly wizard smiled, baring his minimal teeth, obviously pleased with the request.

"This ring was forged for a wizard and his bride. The man in question held magical blood beyond that of a wizard. His intended however, had been marred in a duel. His family demanded he seek another, but his blood would only answer her call. They had already been bound in their magical ways after all. The witch was physically compromised and as such sunk into a deep depression. The wizard was maimed and murdered in the Forbidden Forest, due to his refusals and her unwillingness to leave his side. The opal has healing qualities, which aid in revitalization, however, for her it was too late. She never truly recovered, and after the birth of her only daughter, her magic ebbed. She wrapped her daughter in a cloak and left her on the edge of the wood, near a magical family's home. It is said she wandered the Forbidden Forest, begging the creatures that had ended her husband to end her as well."

"Veela." Draco whispered, his forefinger swiping across the oval stone, with a sort of reverence.

"Ah yes Mr. Malfoy. I wondered if you would recognise your history. Coincidentally, Mr. Cygnus Black arrived here in my shop and begged me to accept this particular piece. Imagine my surprise when nary a month later, the Daily Prophet announced the arrival of young Narcissa Malfoy. Curious isn't it? Her pale blonde hair, her features unlike that of her sisters and then there is the matter of this ring. Take it, Mr. Malfoy, do not insult me with your offer of galleons. I do not peddle in extortion. It is yours by right. Do not let them take her from you." The elderly wizard had a knowing gleam in his eye, which unnerved Draco more than a little.

He bent and removed a small wooden box, intricate engravings were etched into every inch. Draco held his breath while the wizard opened the box and set the ring on a bed of plum velvet. His ring touched the side as the box was placed in his hand and he growled low and deep.

"Granger."

Ron scampered away from the growling wizard, not wishing another demonstration of Veela fury. He shoved the red velvet box into the pocket of his wrinkled slacks and waited for some sort of movement from Draco. The elderly wizard nodded slowly and shuffled to the back room of his shop without another word to his customers.

"S-she's probably at the Foundation. We should go then yeah?" Ron avoided touching the man, but he knew something needed to be done.

Draco carefully wrapped the hand carved box in his embroidered handkerchief and dropped it into the inside pocket of his blazer. He glared at Ron, knowing his eyes were dark as pitch. He shoved through the heavy door and breathed deep, searching for her scent among a throng of hundreds.

He weaved through the witches and wizards, ignoring their grumbles and shocked gasps. He calmed slightly, sensing her near, but it wasn't enough. She was frightened and he wouldn't rest until she was in his arms.

"…Malfoy Manor, I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't just leave them there, Harry!" It was obvious Hermione was distraught and once more Draco spied her desperately clutching Nova, who happened to be sobbing into Hermione's curls.

Draco shoved the green eyed wizard, ignoring the mumbled 'well that's bloody rude' and grasped Hermione to his chest. The shuddering fury lessened, his hands roving every bit of exposed skin, voracious in his search for injuries. Hermione allowed him such liberties, knowing the sooner he calmed, the better for everyone.

She smoothed Nova's blonde curls and handed her to a most displeased Ron Weasley. Nova frowned, poking his freckles, but at least she had stopped crying. Hermione sighed as Draco dropped open-mouthed kisses on the side of her throat, his breath hot and soothing against her skin.

"Rowle. It was Rowle. If it wasn't for Daphne…" Hermione shook her head, clearing her mind, "He surprised me and I had Nova and…"

"Granger, it's time to broach the subject of wards. I know you want nothing more than to have your Foundation open to the public, but you're not just endangering yourself any longer." Draco whispered into her ear, strangely aroused by her submissive behaviour.

He expected her to shout at him, despite their current surroundings, or at least shove him a bit. He had grown accustomed to his easily riled Gryffindor, but instead, Hermione sighed heavily. She nodded against his chest, her arms loosely settled around his waist.

"I shoved the children through the Floo, directly to Malfoy Manor. It's the safest place for them, though I can't imagine your parents are overly pleased." Draco chuckled, finally at peace, visions of his father shouting at rambunctious children dancing in his head.

"Potter, ward the Foundation yeah? I'll add protections afterwards. It seems Granger and I have children to collect."

* * *

Theodore Nott walked slow circles around a certain blonde witch, his chest rumbling in approval. He refrained from touching her, though he was sorely tempted. He had always appreciated her from afar, keeping such musings to himself.

"I used to watch you, did you know that?" Theo leaned over, whispering in her ear. His smile was slow and steady when she jumped. "Oh yes, I quite enjoyed the way your skirt would drift over your thighs, your breasts bouncing in those tight little blouses."

Megan Jones shifted on her feet, and weighed her options. She didn't feel any different, but from what she'd gleaned from reading Pansy's lips, Megan knew she was under some form of an Imperious Curse. She had witnessed the effects during the War and the terrible things witches and wizards were forced to do and it scared her.

"Are you going to force me to…"

"I'll never force you to do anything at all. Perhaps, I might make a suggestion, but the end result is entirely up to you." Theo practically crooned, his lips brushing the outer shell of her ear.

"I rather think I'd like to leave then." Megan pushed up her spectacles, her eyes on the door.

"I do love a good barter." Theo nipped her earlobe, and finally came to rest in front of her.

His dark eyes perused her from head to toe, lingering on her bust until Megan blushed. He smirked and took a small step forward. Megan stared at the floor until a long cool finger caressed her jaw, tapping beneath her chin.

"You said you wouldn't force me." Megan whispered, her lips trembling in her nervousness.

"Yes, my little Puppet, I shan't force you, however the magicks demand obeisance. I can't very well go against their wishes, now can I?" Theo yanked Megan forward by her shoulders, hissing in pleasure when she crashed against him.

"I suppose not. I imagine the repercussions would be quite unpleasant. I remember learning…"

"Enough." Megan's jaw snapped shut in shock more than anger, and she pushed against his chest, but Theo refused to yield. In fact, his hands filled with the soft curve of her bum, grinding against her while nudging her toward his bedchamber.

Theo released her, quickly turning to ward the door. He wasn't above such devious things, explaining them easily away. He was, after all, a Slytherin. He winked at Megan and she stumbled backwards, discovering nothing behind her other than the largest four-poster bed she'd ever seen.

"Sit." Theo gestured toward the silk bed sheets, no longer concealing his lust.

"I want to leave." Megan stood firmly, refusing his demands and it fueled his fire.

"Of course you do, Puppet and I've already informed you the magicks require you to give me something." Theo walked toward her slowly, until Megan was wedged between his hard chest and the four-poster.

"You can't have my virginity." Theo ignored her declaration, his hands on her waist, rising to stroke her ribs.

"Hmmm, yes I can."

Megan found it difficult to focus with Theo Nott's knee wedged between her thighs and his hands, now brushing the underside of her breasts. She blinked and was reclined upon the bed, Theo hovering over her with the smallest smile on his lips.

"I don't want to be a Puppet." Megan fought to focus her eyes after Theo removed her spectacles, her limbs feeling extraordinarily heavy.

"I'm open to compromise." Theo suckled her neck until she pushed him away, a red mark on her skin. "I'll remove it…for a price."

"Anything." Megan swore, her naiveté rearing its delightful little head and Theo groaned.

"Unbreakable Vow." Theo crooned into her ear, pressing her into the silk sheets. "I get what I want, you get what you want, it's perfect really."

"That seems a little extreme…and we haven't someone to perform the spell and…" Megan stammered, aware of his hand on her thigh, slowly stroking under her skirt.

Theo grasped Megan by the hand and dragged her to his Floo. He tossed a handful of powder into the hearth and green flames instantly burst forth. He mumbled under his breath and Megan didn't know where they were going, but suddenly they were spinning. She tripped, Theo catching her against his side when they arrived on the other side.

"DAPHNE!" Theo bellowed, his hands itching to be beneath Megan's blouse. "The Vow, perform it, now." He growled at the disheveled brunette and she didn't argue, limping toward the pair.

Daphne drew her wand and Theo grasped arms with Megan. The words were spoken rapidly and Megan wasn't sure she had heard everything properly before she was promising and magic was swirling around their entwined arms. Daphne nodded and spun on her heel without another word and Theo smiled. The advantage of the Dark Arts was the ability to manipulate even the Unbreakable Vow to his own advantage and naïve little Megan had fallen directly into his hands.

"I don't even know what I've promised, that's not hardly fair now is it?" Megan pouted, entirely displeased with the happenings but then Theo was kissing her.

He fisted her blonde curls, forcing her head back as his tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting her. Megan whimpered, trying to dislodge the wizard, but then they were landing. She realised Theo had Apparated them directly back to his bedchamber.

He unbuttoned her blouse, shoving it off her shoulders while Megan was stumbling backward. Theo nibbled her lips, refusing to let her slip away. He towered over her, slipping the straps of her bra down her arms before he laid her on her back. The moment her glorious breasts were freed, his mouth finally left hers to pay homage to pink peaks simply begging for attention.

Megan was quite embarrassed, by her current state, and the dampness of her knickers. She squeezed her thighs together, continuously calling his name, but Theo was caught in a frenzy of lust. His fingers dug into the supple skin of her thighs and he moaned, tearing her skirt off.

He stepped away from moment, quickly unbuckling his slacks and Megan flipped onto her stomach. She crawled the length of the bed, sitting on her knees in the corner. Her hands covered her breasts and Theo licked his lips with a predatory glint in his dark eyes.

"You took a vow, Megan." Theo tilted his head, studying every inch of exposed skin. He dropped his boxers to the ground and approached his four-poster.

"What…I thought you…" Megan couldn't help but to stare at his erection as he climbed onto the bed and she swallowed hard.

"Better to get it over with now, wouldn't you say, love?" Theo pulled her forward, chuckling as she attempted to avoid his arousal. "It's not as if you can shag another man for as long as you live." He slid her knickers down her thighs and gently fingered her folds. "You're deliciously wet." He tweaked a most willing nipple and Megan whimpered, the sensations overloading her logic.

"I've never…you can't just…sweet Merlin." Megan allowed Theo to manipulate her body until she was flat on her back, legs spread, arms over her head. "Oh gods." Megan moaned, her chest heaving while Theo's nimble fingers twisted and pulled her hard nipples, his face between her thighs.

His movements, while frenzied were incredibly soft, even as he plunged his tongue into her sex. He teased her, painting circles until her limbs trembled and then he would retreat. Theo wanted her to beg for it, and beg she would. He worked his way up her body and back down over and over until her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Please, please, I can't." Megan's blonde curls thrashed across the green silk sheets, her body betraying her, while her lips begged.

Theo stroked his cock, teasing her folds with his arousal, knocking against her throbbing, swollen clit until she shattered. In the midst of her orgasm, he shoved into her, breaking her barrier in a single thrust. He moaned biting her shoulder, withdrawing to thrust again, harder.

They moved together and Theo's need to own, to compel, to control, dissipated into something he didn't quite understand. He tasted the salt on her skin, kissed away the droplets clinging to the corner of her eyes, and allowed himself to feel. He rolled onto his back, snorting upon hearing Megan's huff of irritation.

"Ride me." He bristled, expecting her to bolt, but she didn't.

Megan glanced between their sweat-slicked bodies and straddled the wizard. Theo eased the wonderfully thick witch onto his raging erection, moving her hips while he thrust upwards. It didn't take her long to move of her own accord, Theo couldn't help but to groan as he gazed upon her splendor.

"Exquisite."

Later, as they lay entwined, the sound of their breaths filling the silence, Megan studied him carefully. She never expected to lose her virginity in such a fashion, but she supposed it was better than a quick shag in a storeroom.

"You tricked me." Megan frowned, twisting her damp curls into a bun.

"I am Slytherin." Theo winked, hefting her heaving breasts in his hands with an appreciative grunt.

"I had plans! I was going to marry a very respectable wizard and work for Hermione Granger and perhaps have a child or two and you've ruined everything!" Theo wiped away her tears, drawing her into his side.

"Ah yes, the best laid plans of mice and men. You can have all those things, my sexy little witch….with me."

* * *

"What the fuck is the point of hiring a staff if they can't be bothered to do their fucking jobs?" Draco snarled, Hermione's elbow firmly ensnared in his hand.

While his temper was getting the best of him, Hermione was not the sort of witch to be complacent when it comes to being manhandled. She wrenched away from him, glaring, toffee eyes flashing, and a quick retort on her lips.

"Don't even think of it, Granger. I hired those bloody Hufflepuffs for you and you didn't even think of informing anyone you were there alone. Look at me! I'm Hermione Granger and I don't need anyone to help me in anything. It doesn't matter a group of fucking DEATH EATERS walked straight through the doors. No, it doesn't matter in the least. How could you be so stupid?" Draco shook her by her shoulders, stifling the torrent of emotion, which threatened to bring him to his knees.

Hermione closed her eyes, gasping as his fear coursed through her veins. Her first inclination was to shout at him, frankly. She always had detested the assumptions of others. Due to her intelligence, she wasn't supposed to make mistakes? Absolutely ridiculous, however, it was obvious to her, Draco's anger was based in fear and that she could understand.

"Megan is a Puppet. Mandy needed a mental health day. Sally-Anne was due any moment and Ginny hasn't answered a single owl. I thought with the elves it would be alright. He scared me. I couldn't conjure a Patronus. I did what I thought was best by protecting the children and…" She spoke carefully, weighing her words, but Draco wasn't listening, he was glowering.

"Do you know what I learned today? No, of course you don't. My mother's parents, her real parents mind you, lived a tragic life. It seemed there were many who wished him to choose otherwise and when he refused, they murdered him. Rather than live the rest of her life without him, she went deep into the Forbidden Forest and died. Don't you think there are plenty witches and wizards who could and would seek to do you harm simply because of who you are? Add my heritage into the mix and we've got a bloody target on our backs. You're not going to argue with me, Granger. The Aurors are going to ward your Foundation. Your open door policy is over. My mother has already agreed to accompany you every fucking morning until Rowle, and whoever else, is safely locked in Azkaban. Apparently, there are half a dozen families interested in your tots and we will interview them together, at Malfoy Manor."

"I'm not going to Malfoy Manor." The hysteria in her voice only made him curl around her, with gentle purrs, and light caresses easing her angst.

"Hermione…I understand your trepidation and I wouldn't suggest it normally, but these are dire circumstances, love. The entire wing has been eradicated, I promise, there's nothing for you to fear." Hermione gnawed her lip, even as Draco cupped her face in his very cold hands.

"Your father…"

"Wouldn't fucking dare." Draco hissed, ferociously kissing her lips. He could feel her wavering and knew she would accept. "Rosie will teach you all the passages. You'll never have to step foot into the foyer. Fuck it, we'll bring Nova. Merlin knows you're bloody attached to her and she adores you." Hermione sagged against him, her resolve crumbling, if only due to his infuriating logic.

The Manor was the safest place. If she hadn't believed it to be true, she wouldn't have sent the children there in the face of actual danger. At least Rowle wouldn't be able to penetrate the protections and she could interview prospective parents without the niggling fear of Death Eaters.

"Uhm, Malfoy? Sorry to interrupt, but this blonde hellion is quite set on beating me." Ron held Nova in front of his person while she wriggled and kicked out at him, slapping his freckled hands.

"I'll take her." Hermione voice was muffled by Draco's close proximity, but Nova spun toward her just the same.

"Mummy." Nova's tiny hands formed little fists, opening and closing in quick succession. "My Mummy!"

Hermione's heart clenched and Draco shuddered from the force of her sentiment. She glanced up, studying his grey eyes, a light flush upon her cheeks. She stretched on her toes and kissed Draco so softly, his breath caught in his throat.

"I want to keep her."


	16. Of Death Eaters & Heartbreak

**AN: First. I've been ridiculously ill, so this fic is slow going due to copious amounts of medications. Second. Many many people are going to be unhappy with this chapter. I do not regret it. I've had these thoughts reverberating since the very beginning and I'm not inclined to change them. Third. Constructive criticism is awesome, being mean and hateful just for the sake of expressing your convoluted opinion is not. If you detest this particular story so much, do us both a favour and stop reading it. **

**I can't promise I haven't made errors. I do the best I can.  
As always...enjoy.  
*kisses***

* * *

Of Death Eaters &amp; Heartbreak

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle snarled, sending the offending witch careening into the bureau. He hadn't the time to deal with her simpering. There were much more important things to consider than when Daphne Greengrass would finally have Draco Malfoy in her clutches. He left her, lying on the ground, blood dripping from her hairline, in order to search out one Theodore Nott.

"Stupid girl." The hulking wizard spat, not even bothering to check her for breath.

He shrugged into his thick leather vest, discarding the idea of a shirt. There really was no point to such things, considering his girth. Thorfinn did love showcasing his rippling chest and the thick coarse hair on his chest. Over the years, he had found his physical form to be much more intimidating than any spell he could conjure, and used it to his advantage.

His heavy boots echoed down the rickety wooden stairs and his snarl turned into the closest semblance of a smile he could manage. He enjoyed his power and the fact he had two semi-willing Slytherins to aid him in his endeavors, sweetened the honey pot. Thorfinn knew each of his cronies was only agreeable due to their own agendas, but he didn't let the little things bother him.

The revered Golden Trio had fucked enough of his life. The little Mudblood bitch had dared to alter his memories. It was her fault Dolohov had been defeated by that halfling bastard. It was her fault, he had fallen into disfavor with the Dark Lord. He'd only managed to escape imprisonment in Azkaban by a well-timed Jinx, moments before the entire Ministry came down on him.

Growling, he thrust the thoughts from his head. He was on a mission and couldn't afford to be distracted by the fury of remembering the past. He would have plenty of time to reminisce after he removed the enchantments on the bloody Sacrament.

Rowle passed through the modest library and snatched an old, worn, leather bound book from the nearest shelf. He took a moment to stroke the Malfoy crest emblazoned on the front, baring his teeth as the magic itched against his palm. He sniggered darkly, wondering if Lucius ever regretted cataloguing his wife's unfortunate heritage, but decided it worked to his advantage and applauded the man.

He ambled toward the Floo, strapping the book to his hip and thrust his hand into the dark powder, intent upon paying Theo Nott a visit. He cast the powder into the Floo and growled as he wasn't swept up into the network. Rowle huffed angrily, his cheeks puffing as he set to the tedious task of breaking down Theo's wards.

It took longer than he expected and begrudgingly he was impressed with the boy's abilities. Of course, in the end, they were no match for him, but he did detest being delayed. Thorfinn stepped into the Floo, closing his blue eyes as the network swirled passed him.

Gruffly, he stepped from the fireplace, his eyes narrowed as he investigated his surroundings. He knew Theo had always been secretive when it came to his personal dwelling, and judging by the pristine nature of the brownstone, even Rowle could understand. He considered removing his heavy boots, crusted with mud and Floo powder, but decided against it.

For a man of his impressive size, he managed to stealthily traverse the home, inspecting the books lining the shelves of Nott's study. He was pleased to see numerous Dark Arts tomes, yet a whimper distracted him. He twisted his wand in his meaty fist and ambled down the corridor.

Thorfinn Rowle turned the handle of the last door, swinging it soundlessly open. He crossed his burly arms over this wide chest, crossing his right foot over the left whilst leaning in the doorjamb. He would have chuckled, but he didn't wish to interrupt.

His blue eyes hungrily took in the nude witch splayed across the four-poster bed. Her blonde curls were spread out beneath her, tumbling over the side of the bed. Her large breasts were calling to him, with their hardened peaks, begging for attention.

The indentation of her waist intrigued him. She wasn't the sort of witch he normally wasted his evenings with, but he suddenly understood Nott's obsession with her. She was a thicker sort of girl, with large thighs and pillows for breasts, but the lines of her waist made a man wish to touch her.

Theo, it seemed, had a voracious appetite. Rowle couldn't recall seeing the wizard in more than a handful of days. He sniffed quietly, judging Theo's prowess between the girl's thighs. It seemed the girl was enjoying herself, if her whimpers, gasps, and moans were any indication.

"Theo, there's a man here." Thorfinn smiled broadly, winking at the witch, sadistically enjoying her discomfort.

Theo ignored her, in favour of nipping her clit, digging his fingers into her thighs. He loved the way her back arched off the bed, seconds before she was keening her release and he sought it diligently. Megan was unable to stop the waves of pleasure, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the sights of the colossal wizard leering at her.

Her knees slammed against his ears and Theo chuckled into her sex, his tongue spinning circles. Megan's thighs shook, her fingers twisted in his hair, until her toes curled. Her body sagged as the tension ebbed, but Theo wasn't quite finished with her yet.

Nervously, Megan wondered if the horrid wizard was still observing them, but then she was so full with Theo, she didn't wish to open her eyes. She'd learned to move with him, feeling empowered rather than embarrassed, especially during the moments when Theo would gasp her name.

"What the fuck Rowle?!" Theo shuddered, grunting as he spilled his seed, his dark eyes landing on the bane of his existence.

"Hmm Nott, got yourself a tasty bit there. Clean up, we've work to do." The corner of Thorfinn's lip curled, his eyes dipping toward the spent witch. "Unless of course, you'd rather I give her a go first." His barking laughter echoed in the corridor as he left the pair to their own devices.

Megan Jones stroked the lines between his eyes, instinctively knowing it was better to remain silent. Theo didn't really have a temper and she appreciated that much, but at the same time, her position was precarious. There were moments where she absolutely resented the Vow and the completely Slytherin manner in which he tricked her. There were other moments where Theo treated her as something precious, and those were the moments she clung too.

Megan had never had the unadulterated interest of a wizard. There were a few passing fancies while she was in Hogwarts, but they never amounted to anything. They always moved on to someone else and seemed happier for it. She was the first to admit, she had enjoyed the attention from Blaise Zabini, but knowing his reputation as she did, Megan didn't expect anything to come of it really.

"You're thinking of him again. Don't bother to deny it. I can always tell. Are you truly that unhappy?" Theo stroked Megan's cheek lightly, before forcing himself to vacate the bed.

"Actually, I was considering going back to work. You can't blame me for wondering how my friends are." Megan wrapped the silk sheet around her body and slid from the bed easily.

"You weren't thinking of Blaise? You swear it?" Theo approached behind her, his pointy chin digging into her shoulder.

"You're very insecure, aren't you?" Megan pulled a pale blue dress from Theo's closet, secretly pleased he had purchased an extensive wardrobe for her.

"Only where you're concerned." Theo kissed her throat, his hands on her hips as he breathed her in. "I saw the way he looked at you. He knew I fancied you a fair bit. That's the problem with Zabini, he has a tendency to discover well kept secrets."

Theo removed the dress from her hands, casually tossing it over his shoulder. He was completely adverse to the idea of Megan leaving his side, of her returning to work. He knew it was only a matter of time before Malfoy and those flock of Gryffindors turned Megan against him. He had her, and really, she was the missing piece.

He hadn't truly realised his level of misery, until Megan bloody Jones lit up his world. She wasn't filled with Dark Magic, surrounded by the Dark Arts all of her days. She was kind, caring, and irritatingly loyal. He vowed to never voice his concerns, to keep his emotions firmly in check, especially where she was concerned, but he was floundering.

"You can't expect me to stay here forever." Megan leaned into his chiseled chest, rolling her eyes even as he hardened from her proximity. "Again? You're mad. I am not shagging you with that horrid wizard wandering about."

"I want you to stay, but I won't force you. I don't want to treat you like a Puppet."

"What do you want then, Theo?" Megan refused to allow herself to be lulled by the sensation of his skilled hands on her skin.

"I want to go back in time and speak to you when I had the chance. I'd have taken you to the Yule ball and to Madam Puddifoot's during a Hogsmeade weekend. Perhaps, after we'd completely our N.E.W.T.s, I'd have petitioned your parents in order to properly court you. I imagine if that was the way it had been, we'd have a few children running about and maybe, I wouldn't be wrapped up with bloody Rowle and I'd be happy. Perhaps you'd be happy as well." Theo slipped his hand under the sheet, his palm brushing her stomach softly.

Megan shut her eyes tight, visions of her father's face dancing in her eyes. Her father wasn't what was known as a kind man. He was furious she had been Sorted into Hufflepuff and had no qualms in expressing his derision. He'd often shout at her, reminding her he'd never wanted a daughter, let alone a Hufflepuff. As she got older and grew into her own, he'd snarl when she ate more than a bird, declaring it was unsightly and no respectable wizard would ever wish to tie himself down to such a heifer.

Theo's words washed away the remnants of her father, easing the plaguing whispers of her childhood. They soothed the unseen scars and it scared her. Megan didn't want to listen to his sweet words. She had learned the sooner she cared for something or even someone, the sooner it was ripped from her.

"Theo…please." Theo groaned, pecking the back of her neck lightly and releasing her.

"Fine, fine. Will you return?" Megan stiffened noticeably, but Theo refused to say more than he already had.

He worked quite hard to exude strength, when it was the farthest from the truth. It had been easy to join Thorfinn Rowle's cause. The very mention of the Malfoys raised his hackles. It was the blatant favouritism more than anything, especially considering they hadn't deserved it.

No one had expected the Malfoys of all pureblood families to defect. Theo had been more than surprised, he'd felt betrayed in actuality. He had done everything ever asked of him and still, due to his abusive father, he had been treated like dirt.

Secretly, he laughed at the Dark Lord. The bastard had taken residence in Malfoy Manor, only to have the occupants piss on his legacy. Theo supposed it was what he deserved in the end.

The Malfoys weren't even punished by the Ministry! It truly was a source of contention to see Draco Malfoy strutting about and now he'd snatched up Hermione Granger. The purest witch to ever exist really, and now she belonged to Draco.

"I have conditions." Megan finally answered his petulant question, with ulterior motives no less. Theo was quite proud of her subliminal Slytherin nature.

"Go on then. I'm sure Rowle is completely destroying my library, he's not the patient sort." Theo was more than prepared to argue with her, barter even, but her heavy sigh made him curious as well as wary.

"You talk in your sleep. I know you've some sort of deviant plan with Thorfinn Rowle and Daphne Greengrass as well." Megan slipped the blue dress over her head, feeling much better prepared to deal with the consequences while clothed.

"Megan…"

"No, please don't interrupt. I can't pretend I understand. I was safe during most of the War. I know you've done things, terrible things, but you don't have to continue in this madness. I can see it in your eyes Theo. You don't want to do this. I'm sure at one time, the idea of wrecking havoc on Draco Malfoy was titillating, but we're grown now. Hurting him hurts Hermione and hurting her, hurts me. You chose me for a reason, do you really want to hurt me?" Theo sighed heavily and shook his head.

"You don't understand, Megan. That bastard took everything and…"

"Theo, he didn't really take anything from you that you wanted. If the positions had been reversed, you wouldn't have fared well at all. I don't want you to hurt him. I don't want you to hurt Hermione. I don't want you to hurt anyone. I can't remain with anyone who would willingly cause harm to the people I love. I need you to promise." Megan stood toe to toe with the wizard who had tricked her out of her virginity with a stubborn glint to her eyes.

"If I swear, promise even, what do I get in return?" Theo circled her slowly, pausing to slap her bum.

"What more could you want? You've got me under a bloody Unbreakable. I've shagged you, more than once, what else is there?" Megan huffed, her hands on her hips, while resisting the urge to rub her stinging arse cheek. "I'm incredibly late as it is Theo."

"You could marry me."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy covered his ears and silently screamed. His robes were covered in some sort of green gooey substance, his hair was tangled and dirty of all things, and there were ruffians screeching about his Manor. He cursed his wife for allowing Hermione bloody Granger to set her orphans loose in his home. He cursed Hermione Granger for looking after orphans in the first place, but most of all he cursed his son.

If Narcissa hadn't stolen his wand, Lucius was absolutely certain the Gryffindor Princess and her minions would be collecting corpses rather than children. He tossed back another glass of firewhiskey, the burn making him feel alive. He hastily locked the door to his study as thundering feet raced passed.

"Don't throw that! What is wrong with you! Lucius!" Lucius chuckled, refusing to aid his wife. He propped his feet on the coffee table near the hearth and kicked off his shoes, content with allowing his dear wife to deal with the hellions.

Josiah and Nathaniel whooped gaily and raced down the corridors, dark hair flying, cheeks pink, and feet stomping. They knew better, but they were free. Ms. Hermione wasn't shouting at them to behave. Ms. Mandy wasn't rubbing her forehead and groaning. The elves weren't refusing to give them more treats. There was only an older blond couple that was obviously inept.

"Where'd she go?" The instigator, otherwise known as Josiah whispered in a conspiratorial sort of way while the duo crouched in a corner.

"Iunno, but she's bloody angry." Nathaniel pushed his straight dark hair from his forehead and chanced a peek around the corner.

"Yeah, spose I shouldn't have thrown that ball, but I din think it'd hit that vase." Josiah shrugged, his dark curls falling into his light eyes.

"Ms. Hermione said if'n we don't behave, no one will want us." Nathaniel's bottom lip quivered and Josiah sighed.

He was only a few months older than Nathaniel, but it seemed eons really. He'd lived on the Muggle streets for years. He'd learned how to charm a meal out of those poor sops at the park. Sometimes, he'd even managed to sneak into an unlocked automobile and get a good nights rest.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, had a family until the War took them away. He'd always known of his magical roots and was quite devastated to discover his parents and even his little brother, had been murdered by Death Eaters. He wasn't equipped to deal with the sorts of things Josiah had seen on a daily basis.

"D'ya remember your mum?" Josiah sat against the wall, drawing his knees up as he looked over at his only friend, and sighed.

"Sometimes I think I might, can't be sure though."

"I remember mine and I'd like to have one again. I don't expect it'd be the same or anything, but it could be nice. Maybe, we should just…" Nathaniel sighed, burying his head in his arms, mumbling into his sleeve.

Josiah groaned. He rather had enjoyed rushing bout the biggest house he'd ever seen. He wanted to explore, but he also didn't want to alienate the only friend he had. The other children were much younger and had a terrible habit of crinkling their noses when he came near. He knew he didn't smell bad, Ms. Hermione made him bathe whether he wanted to or not. It was something else, but he didn't know what it was and made a note to ask someone.

"Alright, come on then. I spose I hafta say sorry for breaking that ugly thing. Maybe she'll give us a biscuit or something. I mean, once I tell her it's your birthday and all." Josiah smiled, his light eyes twinkling and he offered a hand to his friend before they ambled down the corridor together.

They didn't enjoy the idea of returning to the Foundation, Malfoy Manor was much more fun. It was filled with nooks and crannies, house elves and the biggest pantry they'd ever laid eyes on. It also happened to be decorated with priceless works of art and antiques, but the boys were not concerned with those sorts of things.

Nathaniel bumped into a small marble table, shaking an ugly vase from its perch. Josiah's dark eyes widened and he lunged for it, catching it in his dirty little fingers. Of course, he had landed on his stomach and slid more than a fair amount across the foyer, but Narcissa Malfoy's vase was in one piece. The duo scrambled to their feet, setting the vase on the floor and scurried into a small cloak closet as the clip of shoes could be heard across the marble.

"Granger, you're being unreasonable." Draco Malfoy groaned, casually tossing his black cloak to a quivering elf.

"Malfoy, you're being ridiculous." Hermione Granger struggled to carry Nova while removing her wet cloak, but Draco quickly snatched the toddler from her arms with a low growl.

"We can't keep her, not now. It's entirely too dangerous. Never mind the fact we've barely begun. You can't expect me to be over the moon that you wish to take on the added responsibility of being a mother on top of being a wife." Draco set Nova on her feet, keeping a careful eye on her as she wobbled into the sitting room.

Hermione opened her mouth, set to lash out at him once more, when his words truly set in. She frowned, the lines in her forehead deepening the longer she contemplated his words. Surely, he didn't mean to imply they were married. It must have been a slip of the tongue.

"Wife?" It was the only word she was able to sputter and even then, Hermione was well aware she sounded absolutely ridiculous.

"Granger, we haven't the time to get into yet another row. We've got to see to the children. We've got to track down Megan Jones and only Merlin himself seems to know where Ginny Weasley has gone off too. Blaise has been half in his cups and shagging anything that moves…" Draco took a deep breath, prepared to continue, but Hermione had other ideas.

"I thought Blaise fancied Megan."

"Blaise fancies any witch with the appropriate parts." Hermione's lip curled in distaste, before continuing with a slight shudder.

"I'm sure Ginny is with Cormac and why isn't Harry doing anything to find Megan? It's not our job to find her. I mean, of course I'm concerned as to her wellbeing, but considering the Death Eaters whom seem to have a propensity for simply barging into the Foundation, I've got bigger issues than whether Megan is shagging Theo." Hermione stamped her foot angrily and moved to skirt around Draco, but he wasn't about to allow her to leave when she was angry.

He moved as she moved, blocking every maneuver. It amused him to see her so easily riled and knew it was only a matter of moments before she would be slapping his chest and shouting at him. Instead, she refused to meet the heat in his eyes, staring at their feet as they moved to and fro, until he was forced to tap his finger under her chin.

Hermione, being ever the stubborn witch, closed her eyes against the fiery burn of his passion. She didn't want to melt under his gaze. She didn't want to lose herself in him. She wanted to march straight into the sitting room and scoop Nova into her arms and hold her tight.

She was furious, or whatever the emotion beyond fury happened to be. Draco was right, but Hermione wasn't about to admit it. She had been careless and had put herself and her children in danger because of her preoccupation with one particular toddler. Her feelings for Nova were interfering with her ability to be the know-it-all witch she'd always been.

The fact Thorfinn Rowle was targeting her made her angry as well. She had only performed a simply Memory Charm. Sure, she was known as one third of the Golden Trio, but if it weren't for Harry, there wouldn't have been a Golden Trio in the first place. Hermione was tired of being the one barraged for existing, ridiculed for working hard to be the best, as if others hadn't had the same opportunity.

"You've quite an ego, Granger. I'm almost impressed. We'll make a Malfoy out of you, yet." Draco snickered, pleased with the ability read Hermione Granger like a well-worn book.

"_I'm a Granger."_ Hermione silently fumed, pushing against insistent hands, gently guiding her toward the stairs.

"For now." Draco wasn't against using his gifts, especially where Hermione was concerned.

"I'm not a Malfoy!" The fire flashing in her toffee eyes was enough to light his passion. The furious blush on her cheeks, caused a low groan to escape his slightly parted lips.

Draco pressed closer to her retreating form, catching her wrist before she tumbled onto her arse. He quite enjoyed the idea of shagging Hermione on his parent's steps, but he knew she would balk at the idea. In fact, she'd balk at any idea currently, which would have her naked and writhing beneath him.

"Yet." Draco hissed, his long fingers lingering on her hip, his lips precariously close to her throat.

He inhaled deeply, the rumble in his chest making her weak in the knees. Hermione braced herself for an onslaught of Veela manipulation, but it didn't come. Instead, she was covered in a delightfully soothing blanket of love. It caught her off guard and Hermione was never one to enjoy the unexpected.

"Stop it." Hermione's arms hung uselessly at her side, her head lolling back and even her breaths were stuttered.

"Rosie, see to the children. Introduce them to the garden. I'm sure my mother will appreciate the reprieve." Draco called over his shoulder, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine.

She turned from him, her feet flying up the steps as she sought to escape the magnetism between them. Hermione didn't know her way around the intricate maze of the Manor and was soon lost in a twisting corridor. The singular door at the end seemed to be her only salvation, though Hermione couldn't help but to wonder why Draco wasn't storming after her.

She twisted the handle, stumbling as she forced the door closed behind her and took a slow breath, exhaling with relief. Hermione studied the ridiculously large room with wary eyes, taking in every well placed piece of furniture and even the impressive collection of books. She smiled upon spying various books from her years at Hogwarts and then she froze.

Frantically Hermione searched for something, anything to prove her wrong, instead, she discovered a small, framed photograph on the bedside stand. It was a younger, angrier Draco Malfoy, standing beside his mother. The prevalent sneer she recognised was slightly softer and Hermione attributed it to his mother's presence.

The rich brown of the walls surprised her. She had always expected Draco Malfoy's quarters to be blazing his House colours with pride, but that wasn't the case at all. There were smatterings of green and specks of silver, but the imposing mahogany furniture softened everything with a masculine air.

Hermione avoided the four-poster bed nestled near the furthest corner. The heavy green drapes were pulled tightly around the bed and she ached to finger their softness, but refused. It was only a matter of time before Draco discovered her whereabouts and she wasn't going to feed his ideas for a romp in his childhood bedroom.

"It's entirely too late for that, love." Draco winked slowly, carefully locking the door behind him.

He could see the wariness in her eyes, the trace of fear, and even the slightest hint of insecurity. It didn't please him in the least. He enjoyed bantering with her, arguing with her and well, shagging her. When he was being honest with himself, Draco Malfoy admitted a fair amount of jealousy, as far as the children were concerned.

They came first in her life and she made no excuses for such things. He didn't much enjoy the sharpness of breath and the rapid pound of his heart whenever she left his side, but he couldn't control it. Draco made a mental note to converse with Apolline about his insecurities, but for the moment, his eyes were centered on a particularly nervous looking delectable witch.

"I'm not asking you to move us into your home. I have a perfectly acceptable flat and…"

"No." Draco grasped the bureau nearest the door in an iron tight grip, his talons inadvertently pricking the wood.

Hermione narrowed her toffee eyes, absolutely refusing to yield to his intimidation tactics. She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. She tossed her head, sending her soft curls over her shoulder.

"Malfoy, I do not need your permission. I'm not asking you to step in and be some sort of father figure, Merlin knows we're not even in such a place in our relationship. Nova is a beautiful little girl and…"

"Granger." The warning in his voice set her back a moment. Her thoughts immediately cluttered, unsure as to his wrath.

"You're trying to confuse me. I don't understand why you don't want me to have her! Why do you even care?!" Hermione stamped her foot in irritation, moments away from drawing her wand against the man.

Draco raked the fingers of his left hand through his hair, thankful his talons had retracted and stalked toward her. His breaths were released through his teeth, making them sound infinitely furious, though that was not his intent. He formulated his thoughts while wrenching open the emerald green draperies surrounding his childhood bed.

"Come here." He expected her to argue, yet to his surprise, she didn't. Hermione walked toward him carefully, her eyes locked on his, until she was mere inches from his heaving chest. Carefully, he tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and slipped her wand from the pocket of her gray cloak.

"Give me back my wand, Malfoy." Instead of answering her, Draco unbuttoned her cloak, appreciative of its softness even as it pooled around her feet.

"You can't keep her, Granger. When I tell you why, you're going to be absolutely furious and your first inclination is going to be to call me a liar and hex me into oblivion. I'd rather not suffer the pain, I'm sure you understand. It's going to hurt you and whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're locked together that way, but it can't be avoided any longer." Draco kept his voice light, but Hermione stiffened regardless.

Draco pushed her hair off her shoulders before gently cupping her face in his hands. She gasped, finally seeing the depths of his pain. Hermione knew he was being truthful and it rocked her to her very core. She suddenly didn't want to know the truth of the matter any longer.

She'd never contemplated the idea of being unable to keep Nova. She'd grown incredibly attached to her, loved her even. Every time the curly haired blonde toddler called her 'mummy', Hermione's heart melted. She wanted to be a mother, yet despite Apolline's explanation of the magicks, Hermione still wasn't confident in her ability to have a child of her own. At least if she had been able to keep Nova, she would be able to experience some sort of motherhood.

"I don't want to know." Hermione whispered, suddenly entranced with white knuckles deftly removing her blouse.

Draco perched on the edge of his four-poster, pulling Hermione between his knees and wrapped his arms around her bare waist. He ached for her. The moment he Marked her, it had increased to a boiling point which was driving him absolutely mad. He was angry with Apolline. She had ingrained into him the dissipation of desire upon Marking his mate, but now, Draco knew she had withheld valuable information.

"Yes you do." Draco's lips dragged along her throat, nipping lightly, while his fingers unclasped her bra and dragged her skirt down her hips.

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione's petite hands shoved his shoulders, but he didn't budge.

Draco hefted her in his arms, reclined slowly, and laid her beside him, deciding he quite liked the look of the Gryffindor Princess surrounded by Slytherin green. He adored her naturally submissive nature in the bedroom. It kept a natural sort of balance to their life.

"You have to have faith in the magicks, Granger. I'm not against fatherhood, in fact, I've quickly become quite fond of the idea. I imagine bushy haired blonde children, with their mother's intelligence and their father's cunning. They'd be brilliant of course, and Hogwarts would never be the same. Of course, I'd much prefer to…Merlin forgive me, take Ron Weasley's advice and make an honest woman of you first, but I'm definitely not against the practice." Draco vanished his clothing with a simple wave of his hand and quickly covered Hermione's body with his own, lest she sought to escape.

"Oh of course. I can't believe Apolline and even your mother didn't inform you of the Compulsion. Where's your wand? We really should cast a Contraceptive Charm or something of that nature. Perhaps there's a Potion which could ease your symptoms and keep me from…oh my gods." Hermione's monologue was cut short by firm lips surrounding her aching peaks, while talented fingers worked diligently between her thighs.

"Compulsion…hmmm, do you mean the all-consuming need to shag you into oblivion until you're rounded with my child? Do you mean the ache in my chest when I'm not touching you, holding you, surrounded with you? Do you mean the way I only feel utterly happy and complete when I'm inside you?" Draco sighed in relief as he sunk into her, delighted in the feel of her.

"I-I don't know, the book didn't go into specifics." Hermione moaned as he flexed his hips, slamming against her hard, so hard it was almost painful, yet instead released a delicious sort of pleasure.

"If I were a dedicated student, I'd ask to borrow it, love. I do believe, I'd rather have a conversation with Apolline." Draco strained against her, catching his teeth on her earlobe while his thrusts became erratic.

He'd known the moment he stepped into his childhood chamber and spied Hermione investigating his sparse belongings, he had to have her. He also knew he wouldn't last long. It didn't bother him. He had no intentions of allowing her to leave until they were both completely sated.

"She has family doesn't she?" Hermione whispered in his ear, the moment after she shuddered her release. Draco collapsed on her chest, his face wedged between the side of her face and her shoulder. He breathed deeply and suckled her throat, leaving behind a large purple love bite.

"I'm sorry, love." Draco withdrew, lying beside her as the various emotions flitted across her face, before settling on melancholy.

He recognised the upset, the anger, and even the slightest trace of shame, he didn't quite understand. He sighed heavily, refusing to allow her to vacate his bed. Draco held her nude body against his, covering them with a silky green sheet.

He was ever so thankful they were lying down when the incredible crashing wave of heartbreak washed over him. It was difficult for him to breathe, and then the pain set in. If Draco hadn't been firmly wrapped around his witch, he was certain he was being bludgeoned and perhaps even stabbed.

Instead, the bed shook with the sounds of Hermione Granger's heartbreaking sobs.


	17. Of Demonstrating & Schemes

**AN: First &amp; Foremost I must thank Grey girl 1989, for allowing me usage of a particularly amusing snippet from one of her FSoG stories.  
Second - I'm two hours away from hopping a shuttle to hop a flight so I have NOT proofread this chapter. I wanted to get it done before I left on my trip...so I'm sure the errors are many and ridiculous.  
Third - Don't hate me too much. Sometimes there's an idea and you've just got to go with it and see where it takes you.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Demonstrating &amp; Schemes

* * *

Ginny Weasley scurried through the crowd of witches and wizards bustling around Hogsmeade with a high flush on her cheeks and a light in her eyes. She tucked a long red strand of hair behind her ear and pulled her cloak tightly across her bust. She slipped into her brother's shop nearly bursting at the seams. She was quite proud of their expansion, but her brothers were the farthest thing from her mind at the moment.

She swept through the shop without sparing a glance at the gaggle of young children perusing the Weasley wares and hurried toward the back door. She breathed a sigh of relief upon stepping into the small alley and rubbed the chill from her arms. Ginny drew the fur-lined hood over her head, hiding her telltale hair and smiled as a tall wizard approached her.

"You're late." He breathed, snaking his long arm around her waist and drawing her close.

"I told you I had to visit with Hermione. You're impatient." Ginny hissed, secretly pleased with his irritation.

"Did you see her then? Will she be there?" He leaned close and bit her earlobe, his hands lost in the folds of her cloak, impatiently yanking her pale blue dress up her creamy thighs.

"The Foundation was being warded by an impressive group of Aurors who happened to inform me, Hermione's at Malfoy Manor." Ginny sighed, quite put out with her inability to simply Apparate to her mate's whereabouts.

"Send her an owl." Cormac breathed into her hair, wrenching the hood from her head, while his busy fingers slid her damp knickers down her thighs.

"I'm not shagging you here." The waver in her voice made him smile against her throat.

Cormac McLaggen nodded slowly, lifting his head to study her bright brown eyes. He studied the desire, managing to spy the insecurity and nervousness. Ginny had a bit of trouble keeping her gaze on his, unwilling to bare her soul.

"You know we've got to do it." He stroked the cheeks of her bare bum, continuously pushing her knickers down to her knees.

"It's your fault. If you hadn't stolen my wand…" Ginny gasped, halfway between a moan and indignation when his fingers brushed against her sex. He lifted her right foot from the ground, deftly removing the offending cotton, before moving on to the other.

"I didn't have much choice in the matter, now did I? You were threatening to return to Zabini or whoever else was willing to give you a go." Cormac growled and shoved her knickers into the pocket of his black slacks.

"I was angry with you! You were being an obstinate pompous ass! I thought you were toying with me again. We've been barricaded in your flat for bloody weeks and you still refused to admit there was anything between us besides a bit of shagging." Ginny brushed away the angry tears, shoving his chest, but Cormac didn't budge.

"I never toyed with you, Ginevra. It was always you. You refused to see. You refused to commit. You were constantly fretting over your friends and family. Sure, it was one thing to have a quick tryst, but quite another to publicly out yourself as being completely in love with me." Cormac crossed his arms, arched his eyebrows and his cocky stance had Ginny fuming, but he wasn't wrong. "You told all your bloody friends I dropped you for one of those Beauxbaton's witches, when that isn't the truth at all and I never refuted your words. I've allowed you to come and go as you please for years Ginevra. Now, I've finally trapped you and I'd love to see you finagle your way out of us this time."

Ginny stamped her foot angrily, her cheek flushing a delightful shade of red while she prepared to give Cormac quite the tongue-lashing. She hated when Cormac McLaggen actually made sense. His logic wasn't flawed and she absolutely hated it. She was more than aware of the fact the issues in their 'relationship' were due to her unwillingness to actually accept he cared for her.

"My mother's going to kill me." Ginny finally breathed, allowing her vicious Weasley temper to dissipate.

"Honestly, I'm more afraid of your brother's reaction." Cormac shrugged, surprising her with a short, sweet kiss. "We're going then?" He winked, glancing over her blue cap sleeved dress with lascivious appreciation.

"I can't, not yet. I've got to…did you hear that?" Ginny's head whipped toward the shops of Hogsmeade, frowning heavily as she discerned the sounds of screams.

Cormac caught her hand before she ran toward the fray. Deep down he knew he'd never been able to corral her, but that was part of her charm. It wouldn't have been nearly as much fun if she were a simpering witch who acquiesced to his every demand. She fought him at every turn and to be honest, the make-up sex made it all worthwhile.

"Let me go! It sounds like Hermione!" Ginny struggled against his strong grip, until he slipped a simple ring on her finger.

There were no words spoken. There were no promises made. There was only a probing glance, laced with trepidation and shimmering red hair gently flowing in the soft breeze. There was shining brown bright eyes, tears glistening on cheeks and a slow nod. There was a sigh of relief and the release of tension before hurrying toward the sounds of mayhem.

"Oh my gods." Ginny's hand flew to her mouth and even Cormac managed a small gasp.

The black billowing smoke littering the sky was reminiscent of the days of war. The sounds of screams filled the air and Ginny froze. She blinked, unsteady on her feet as soot covered children ran passed, before they were scooped into the arms of passing Aurors and various other Ministry Officials. She was vaguely aware of Cormac speaking to her, but Ginny was unable to discern the words, her mouth open in horror.

"Ginny! You're here!" Harry Potter grasped her arms, shaking her a bit, but Ginny's head simply flopped on her shoulders.

"She's in a bit of a state." It was the first time Cormac McLaggen had addressed The Boy Who Lived Twice since his discovered affair with Ginny.

Harry's eyes narrowed and he bristled slightly, but realised the past was best left in the past. He nodded curtly and embraced the tall witch, forcing her head to his shoulder. Ginny remained stiff, her eyes remaining wide, yet unseeing.

"You take her, McLaggen. She'll snap out of it, just keep talking to her." Harry handed off his former love, scouring the crowd for Luna when a murderous growl reached a crescendo. "I've got to diffuse that mess before someone gets killed." Harry muttered and rushed off, hurling jinxes and shouting into the crowd.

"Fuck me," Cormac practically bellowed, encasing Ginny ridiculously tight. "I wasn't aware Malfoy was a bloody Veela."

* * *

Hermione Granger nervously paced the length of the Malfoy Manor sitting room, resolved not to cry. She refused to nibble her bottom lip or even twist her curls. She knew in the grand scheme of things it was better for Nova to reside with family, but she would be lying if she said it didn't rent her heart.

After Megan, Mandy, and even Sally-Anne had arrived at the Manor, it had been relatively easy to set the children to task. Of course, Josiah and Nathaniel were rambunctious, but such was to be expected in the new surroundings.

Hermione wanted to speak to Megan immediately, but Draco convinced her to wait until a more appropriate time. It seemed Nova's aunt was quite anxious to see her. Hermione thumped her fingertips on her forearm as she gazed over the grounds of Malfoy Manor, glowering at the posturing peacocks.

"She refuses to step foot inside the Manor. I've owled Potter and he says the wards on the Foundation should be sufficient. I've set your witches to work, in terms of transporting the children." Draco slowly approached her, wary of the hardening of her golden brown eyes.

"I really can't argue with that, now can I? I didn't particularly wish to be here either." He managed to ignore her scathing tone, feeling more than sensing the hurt beneath the words.

Hermione glanced at him quickly and her heart caught in her throat. She was so accustomed to seeing encased in black, it was shocking to see Draco sporting a bit of colour. His midnight blue button down brought out the specks of blue in his eyes and his charcoal grey slacks, clung to his form in such a way, Hermione released a breathy little sigh.

The low rumble emanating from his pursed lips, alerted her to his ability to sense the sexual tension rolling off her in waves. Of course, Hermione hadn't allowed him to touch her since becoming completely aware of the implementation of the Compulsion. It had caused tension between them, but Apolline was on holiday, assuming her student and his mate no longer had a need for her.

Draco smirked as Hermione's wide eyes perused his form with appreciation. She whipped her head toward the window, subconsciously toying with the strand of pearls gently resting against her collarbone. She folded an arm across her waist and closed her eyes, willing her body to behave.

"Granger…"

"No, Malfoy. Absolutely not. I'm not ready and…"

"You were ready enough to keep Nova though weren't you?" Draco snarled, crossing the room faster than she could blink, his fingers digging into her shoulders.

"Malfoy," Hermione breathed, suddenly nervous, "we're not ready. It's the Compulsion and…"

"It isn't. I spoke with my mother. She would know better than anyone really." Draco's stiff fingers relaxed and he couldn't help the cross between a sigh and a purr when Hermione rested her head on his chest. Her hands slid across the smooth silk of his shirt before gently running the length of his back in a particularly soothing manner.

"What did she say?" Draco smoothed the slightly frizzed curls along her spine, breathing her in. Draco laughed lightly, recalling the light in his mother's blue eyes when he came to her seeking answers.

"She said it normally takes more than a bit for the Compulsion to take over, as Veela have a tendency to claim their mates long before they're ready. She claimed you're in love with me, of course." Draco shrugged, even as Hermione's relaxed form stiffened, until it was much like embracing a block of wood. "Do you? Is that what this fuss is all about? Do you love me?" He relaxed his hold, peering down at the top of a very stubborn head that just so happened to refuse to meet his gaze.

"Malfoy, y-you know I care about you…it's just a matter of, well I mean…I…is that what your mother said the catalyst was?" Hermione deflected to the best of her ability, her face heating rather spectacularly, which amused Draco to no end.

"You haven't answered the question, Hermione." Draco tapped her chin, forcing her beet red face upwards until grey met brown.

"I-I don't know. Is that what you want to hear? I don't know how to quantify how I feel. I mean, it's all been this whirlwind and one thing has happened straight after another and it's hard for me to wrap my brain around it, while dealing with the Foundation, the children, Megan, Rowle and whatever else decides to wreck havoc." Hermione gently pushed away from him in favour of pacing the sitting room. "I don't know how to feel anymore. I'm so lost inside my own head I can't even breathe. I'm sorry, but it feels like my heart has shattered into innumerable pieces and pierced my lungs and I…" Her voice broke and instantly, as always, he was there.

Hermione realised he was always there. He was there when she needed him and even when she truly believed she didn't. Sometimes, his hovering nature drove her absolutely batty, but in the end, his presence was comforting. It wasn't necessary for him to care for the children beside her. It wasn't necessary to provide her favourite cup of tea when she was frazzled and yet Draco Malfoy did all those things for her and many more.

"I didn't fall in love with you." Draco whispered into her hair, his large hands smoothing the crinkled cotton of her red blouse. "I walked into love with you, after fighting it for what seemed like eons first. Eventually though, I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take ever step along the way. I do believe in fate, it would be impossible not to, considering our lives, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things we'd choose anyway. I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I'd find you and I'd choose you." Hermione managed to keep her tears at bay for a few moments, at least until she gazed into his grey eyes, flecked with blue and could see the truth in them.

She stretched onto her toes, her navy blue skirt riding up the backs of her thighs and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him hard, unrelenting, pouring all her unfettered emotion into the kiss. Draco readily answered, his soft lips racing across hers, drinking her in, until it was difficult to draw breath.

His fingers were lost in her hair, crushing her slight body to his. He hitched her leg over his hip, maneuvering them until Hermione bounced against the wall. Draco's hands dropped to the curve of her bum, desperately gripping her tightly. Hermione's breathless pants were spurring him on, but she was shaking her head.

"Not here. We can't…"

"I've always wanted to tumble you in my childhood bedroom." Draco murmured against her cheek, his eyes filled with mischief.

"Draco!" Lucius Malfoy burst into the sitting room, looking less like the refined Malfoy Patriarch and more like a madman.

Draco growled, loud and deep, warning his father to keep his distance, as he shielded Hermione with his body. It offered Hermione the chance to straighten her blouse, wondering how he had managed to wrench it free from her skirt so quickly. She pressed her cool palms to her cheeks, in order to lessen her blush, before peering over Draco's shoulder.

Hermione had been able to avoid Lucius Malfoy until now and assumed he still abhorred her existence, the way he always had. The maniacal look in his familiar grey eyes alarmed her slightly, especially when she could see such malice wasn't directed toward her.

"I fear we've been duped." Lucius gasped, the long pale fingers of his right hand, clutching the crisp linen of his shirt, directly over his heart. "Have you…sent the children to the Foundation as of yet?" Hermione studied the man's worried frown as the hair stood on the back of her neck.

"Megan Jones and Mandy Brocklehurst have begun Flooing over the older children. Sally-Anne Perks and Narcissa are tending the tots. I don't understand, by whom have you been duped?" Hermione cautiously stepped from behind Draco, despite the gnashing of his teeth in warning.

Lucius took a small step forward, avoiding looking at Hermione directly. It wasn't due to her blood status or any such nonsense, he simply did not wish to be on the receiving end of his son's rage. He stepped toward a lovely high-backed chair in the corner and slowly lowered himself into it, staring at Draco.

"I was only trying to help, you have to understand." If the circumstance had been different, Hermione would have been highly amused to see Lucius Malfoy simper the way he was. "I knew she had an affinity for the child. I assumed eventually you'd cave to her demands and there are certain steps to be taken. It's not as if you could simply keep her. The Wizengamot has strict laws in regards to adopting abandoned or orphaned children." Lucius took a slow, stuttering sort of breath, never once glancing at Hermione.

"Granger, my father provided me with the information concerning Nova's family. There are proper channels and without my knowledge or permission, he took it upon himself to speed things along a bit." Draco anchored Hermione to his side, his ire at being interrupted slowly ebbing as Hermione's anxiety level rose.

"I discovered a singular relative." Lucius swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment. He hadn't felt so unbalanced since Voldemort ruled his life. "It seems, the Ministry discovered an interesting tidbit of information."

"Father, did you really interrupt us to…"

"Draco, let him finish." Hermione's palm grazed his chest, her fingers slipping between the spaces between pearl buttons, her dark eyes focused on Lucius.

"The girl, Nova, you mustn't send her back to the Foundation. It isn't safe. The wards allow family members to pass through and considering the upheaval, she's in danger."

"What…what are you saying?"

"Ms. Granger…" Lucius turned toward her slowly, his silvery eyes sliding over her in the most apathetic manner he could muster. "The poor girl's parents are deceased. They died tragically after the War had ended, when Nova was nothing more than a babe in arms. Her father was a Pureblood and her mother was a Muggle. There was absolutely nothing of interest in their records, but in the matter of the mother's relatives, something was uncovered. The Ministry doesn't make a habit of retaining the familial records of Muggles, however it seems Nova's mother had a brother. The brother married a witch, hence where the problem lies." Lucius quickly Accio'd a bottle of firewhiskey and a tumbler, unable to continue without libation.

"Nova's aunt is coming to collect her. She refused to step foot on the estate grounds." Draco huffed, indignant at the woman's snub, not realising the implications.

"Yes, well, it doesn't surprise me in the least. We've never been…particularly close with the family. If memory serves me correctly, they detest us even more so now that you've claimed your witch." Lucius enjoyed a liberal draught, sighing as the amber liquid burned down his throat, warming his interior.

"Who…?" Hermione practically choked on the word, her fingertips fluttering, as she shifted her weight between her feet.

"Anderson Foster, the Muggle, married Raven Rowle, Thorfinn's half-sister."

* * *

The dark haired beauty adjusted her pearlescent plum robes, furtively glancing over her shoulder. She didn't enjoy spending more time than necessary in the Wizarding World any longer, but her brother hadn't sought her out in years. She figured she owed him a visit.

She stepped into the Hog's Head, bristling at the raucous customers jovially singing at the bar, and skirted the inebriated wizards in favour of sliding into the dark booth in the corner. She smoothed her skirts and inspected the dingy glasses littering the wooden table.

"You've arrived I see, dripping with derision."

"Thorfinn." The hulking blond wizard flopped across from her, his light eyes narrowed, lips snarling. "Do be quick, you know I don't enjoy…"

"Alright then. I need you to go to collect a child for me." Thorfinn Rowle waved off his sister's curling lip with a meaty fist. "I'm not stealing her. She's related."

"I find that hard to believe. Whatever are you mixed up in Thorfinn?" Raven Rowle Foster tapped her long plum nails across the thick gouges of the wood, impatiently.

Thorfinn Rowle scratched at his close-cropped blond hair and gazed at the glorious vision of his sister. They looked nothing alike really, which suited his purposes just fine. Her long dark hair shielded her sparkling blue eyes, the only physical characteristic they had in common. He leaned forward and captured her fingers, squeezing them tighter than necessary.

"Your Muggle-man, Anderson, he had that sister Madeleine and she married that Cooper bloke…"

"Yes, I'm well aware of my husband's roots and how it just so happens the Fosters have an affinity for witches and wizards. Get to the point quickly would you? I fear I'll require a flea bath upon returning home." Raven flicked her long straight hair over her shoulder, wrenching her hands from her brother's fists.

"Impatient bint. Madeleine had a daughter, which makes her your niece. I want you to collect her." Thorfinn smiled, but the message was clear.

Raven was to do his bidding if she wished to continue living her life. She resented his boorish ways even more now that she was once more trapped in one of his schemes. She regretted answering his owl, but her husband was the sort to encourage her relationship with her family. She shielded him from the truth, to protect him more than anything.

She contemplated the idea of raising her niece, and it wasn't a terribly off-putting idea. Raven was terrified of having children of her own, if only due to her bloodlines, but Anderson craved a child. He would be clamoring for his niece and she wouldn't be able to deny him, the trouble would be dealing with Thorfinn.

"What are you doing?" Raven hissed, losing hold of her temper and slapping his hard face.

"I don't want the child. Keep her, kill her, I don't care at all. I need the access. If you collect her, well, I'm not going to go into details, but its two-fold and absolutely delicious." Thorfinn chuckled heavily, a barking sort of laughter, and slapped his palm on the table, splatting the glasses of murky water.

There was no need for Raven to know how devastating the loss would be for Hermione Granger. Hell, Raven didn't care a wit for Hermione Granger, or any other witch for that matter. Raven also didn't need to know his plans for murder and mayhem. She wouldn't take kindly to violence, she never did.

As much as they were different, he loved his sister. Thorfinn was relatively sure she was the only person in his life he truly loved. She was cruel and biting, same as he, but she didn't dismiss him the way their parents had dismissed them both. She cared for him and that made her important.

"It solves both our problems really. I know your Muggle-man has been hankering for a child and considering our collective parents, you're remiss. The child is related to him at least and it'll make him happy, I suppose." Thorfinn awkwardly patted his sister's lightly tanned hand, attempting to offer the slightest bit of confront.

"Where do I have to go?" Raven sighed, resigned to the fact once more she would be doing his brother's bidding. Though, she had to admit, there was a certain amount of excitement bubbling in her chest at the very idea of raising a child with her husband.

"Malfoy Manor, originally, but I sent an owl on your behalf. We'd never step foot on the Manor grounds and I need the child at the orphanage." Raven hissed through her teeth, her dark eyebrows furrowing with discontent.

"An orphanage? Anderson's niece is ensconced in a bloody orphanage and you're only just telling me of her now?" Raven's voice rose by the octave, breaking slightly on the last word.

Visions of her own childhood, spent in the realms of some far off cousins dungeons flashed before her blue eyes, causing Raven to wretch with the very thought of her niece surviving the same. Her head began to spin, but Thorfinn was quick to wave his large palm in front of her blurred vision and gain her attentions once more.

"Granger's Foundation for Wayward Witches and Wizards isn't like what we were subjected too. I swear it. Despite being run by a Muggle-born and that fucking Malfoy bastard, it's actually quite a nice space. The children are clean and obviously cared for, which is more than we were." Raven blinked her soot lashes a few times and relaxed her shoulders.

She knew it took more than a little for her older brother to be so comforting. He wasn't known for his softer side and Raven believed she was truly the only person to have experienced it. She was grateful for his kind words and awkward hand pats. Her horror was appeased upon hearing the children were well cared for. As much as she wasn't certain she wanted children of her own, Raven desperately wished to experience motherhood and now was her chance.

"When should I retrieve her? What's her name?" Raven whispered, leaning over the wooden plank table, ignoring the dust and grim pressing into her plum robes in favour of plying information from Thorfinn.

"Nova, her name is Nova. It seems she believes the Muggle-born witch to be her mother. I can't say for certain as it seems she calls nearly every witch some form or mum or another. She's not more than three if I had to guess. She got blonde curls and well, other than that, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. I don't really know much about children other than they're a bit sticky and smell." Thorfinn snarled as one of the barmaids hovered a bit too close for his liking and eyed the door. "We can go whenever you like, or rather you can leave and I'll follow in a bit."

"Thorfinn, you're not…planning anything…dangerous are you? I mean, I know I don't usually question your motives, but when you're purposefully seeking me out and asking me to aid you in your endeavors, I do believe I've a right to know." Raven Foster slid from the booth, her nose crinkling upon witnessing the specks of grey dust clinging to the folds of her robes.

"The less you know, sister, the better." Thorfinn towered over his dark haired sister and offered a wink, with a hand on the small of her back.

* * *

It was a strange gathering of witches and wizards in the foyer of Granger's Foundation, but the air was amiable enough. Mandy Brocklehurst gazed longingly at the imposing Italian wizard settled in the corner, while Megan Jones pretended he didn't exist. Sally-Anne Perks was engaged in a strange conversation with Luna Lovegood, wondering when someone was going to rescue her. Theodore Nott was busy glaring at the Gryffindor duo and it seemed they were equally perturbed with his presence.

"Why is he here?" Ron Weasley hissed to his best mate, jabbing Harry Potter in the ribs.

"Megan said she made him promise. I don't understand any better than you do, Ron. We'll just have to wait for Hermione and Malfoy to arrive." Harry rubbed the sore spot of his ribs, while keeping a careful eye on the less than trustworthy Slytherin.

"Maybe if you tell him why Luna calls you the Hogwarts Express, he'll go away." Ron nearly shouted, clamping his freckled hand over his mouth immediately after the words expelled his lips.

"I'm going to regret asking this," Blaise Zabini mumbled from the confines of an upholstered chair in the corner. "I'm bored though and could use a bit of amusement. Go on then Weasley, tell us." He sighed with his eyes closed, though a smirk danced on the corner of his blush lips.

Theo Nott snorted, resenting the fact Megan had practically forced him to Granger's bloody Foundation. He didn't give a rat's arse why anyone was referred to as the Hogwart's Express. He didn't give a rat's arse if Granger's little orphans were safely transported anywhere. He'd much rather be back at his quiet little flat, the silence only broken by the sounds of Megan moaning his name.

"Theo…" Megan Jones stamped her petite foot, bouncing her golden blonde curls and her breasts for that matter, instantly drawing Theo's attention.

"Megan, you can force me upon these sniveling Gryffindors, but you'll never rid me of my Slytherin tendencies. I'm sure you can understand. I don't mock your bleeding heart Hufflepuff ways, now do I?" Theo pushed off from the wall furthest from Blaise and caught Megan around the waist. "I deserve a reward." He whispered in that sensual low timbre voice that just so happened to instantly dampen her knickers.

"I'm going to be sick." Ron Weasley faux gagged as he witnessed Theo and Megan snogging.

Frankly, he wished nothing more than to pummel Theo like a Muggle, but Harry reminded him the bastard came in peace. Ron didn't see anything peaceful about Nott's presence, besides the fact Megan could really keep the bloke in line. Smugly, he straightened his shoulders, glad he wasn't the sort of wizard to allow a witch to keep his bollocks in her pocket.

"Ronald Weasley!" Pansy Parkinson screeched from the Dining Hall and not a moment later, he was rushing down the corridor, hoping Pansy wouldn't hex him too severely.

"So, Potter, I'm still waiting." Blaise crossed his legs, opening one eye to glare at the green-eyed wizard.

He avoided speaking to Megan and Theo, for the sake of his sanity more than anything. He disliked having anything he desired taken from him and Blaise had desired Megan. In the end of course, he realised she was just as fickle as any other witch, and was thankful his eye had been turned by her in the first place. Ginny Weasley was the sort of witch you settle down with and Blaise definitely wasn't ready for such things. He shuddered at the very thought, his narrowed eyes flicking toward Theo and Megan, who hadn't come up for breath yet.

"I don't…it's just…shut up, Zabini." Harry huffed, quickly glancing at his timepiece.

Luna Lovegood tittered quietly and excused herself from Sally-Anne's side. She didn't see the strawberry blonde's relief, nor would it have bothered her if she had. Luna wasn't the sort of witch to allow others opinions to weigh to heavily on her. She'd always been considered strange and had accepted her role as an outsider, though, she never felt that way when she was with Harry and in the end, that's what mattered the most.

"Are you embarrassed, Harry? I'm certainly not. I'd tell everyone if you'd allow it. I mean, we spent many an hour discussing your prowess during our Tantric sessions and…"

"For the love of Merlin, please stop Luna." Harry was just shy of crashing to his knees, begging his delightful blonde witch to keep their secrets, secret.

"A hundred galleons if you tell us, Lovegood." Blaise sat up, taking the offered tumbler of firewhiskey from a moony-eyed Mandy, with a wickedly Slytherin smile.

Luna Lovegood giggled, her radish earrings swinging wildly before she began to spin in circles. Her arms spread wide, her rainbow coloured scarf fluttering around her head, Luna spun faster, her laughter building, until finally she collapsed in Harry's arms. She quite enjoyed the dizzying feeling, as for some reason, it eased all the remnants of inadequacy from her childhood.

"Your witch is a bit barmy, Potter." Theo finally dislodged his lips from Megan's, if only to comment on Luna's nature.

"Maybe, but she's mine willingly, which is more than I can say for yours." Harry kissed Luna's temple, holding her tight.

He was used to the disparaging comments and had long since learned it was better not to rise to the occasion. It displeased Luna more than anything and in the end, they decided their relationship was their business. It no longer mattered what anyone thought and as soon as the moment arose, Harry was of a mind to seek a change of her name. Luna Potter had a lovely ring to it, at least he thought so.

"Those are fighting words, Potter." Theo hissed, clutching his wand in a shaking fist.

"You promised, Theo." Megan crooned, forcing his hand to his side before turning to Harry with fire in her brown eyes. "It would be best if you kept your biting words to things you're actually familiar, Harry Potter. It's easy to make assumptions and I know you're absolutely stellar when it comes to judgement, however, I would appreciate it, if you could manage to refrain until such time as I speak with Hermione and Draco. I don't expect you or anyone else to understand, though I honestly believed you of all people would make an attempt. It seems I was wrong." Megan flung her blonde curls over her shoulder and angrily crossed her arms, protectively guarding Theo.

"What is there to understand? From what I've heard, the bastard turned you into a bloody Puppet and there have been some whisperings of an Unbreakable Vow. What am I or anyone else for that matter supposed to think?" Harry shouted at her, the small vestiges of his temper disintegrating before his very green blazingly angry eyes.

"Yes Megan, do tell." Draco Malfoy wandered through the front door of the Foundation with a nervous Hermione Granger on his arm as his parents followed behind them.

Even Harry had to admit it was a strange sight. Of all the things he'd witnessed during his short life, he never believed he'd see Hermione Granger surrounded by Malfoy's and seemingly at ease with it as well. She seemed to be clutching at Draco's pale hand, yet at second glance, Harry realised he was wrong. Draco Malfoy was fighting with his mate, attempting to keep her from brandishing her wand.

"I'm not a Puppet any longer. Theo and I…came to an agreement and yes, there was an Unbreakable Vow involved but a Wizard's Oath as well. I don't expect you to understand, or even to accept it. He is not going to injure me, nor any of you for that matter. Apparently, I mean a great deal to him and injuring any of you would hurt me and well, we can't have that, now can we Theo?" Megan stroked Theo's cheek with her fingertips before stretching up on her toes and kissing him.

"She's got you by the short and curlies." Blaise guffawed loudly, doubling over at the waist, thankful he had dodged yet another demanding witch.

"Shut it, Zabini." Theo growled, yet didn't refute the words, which simply made Blaise laugh that much harder.

"Oi, Potter, tell me now." All eyes turned to Harry, his face reddening significantly while he sputtered. Luna threw her arms around her neck and kissed him soundly, adding to his embarrassment before facing the crowd.

"I call Harry the Hogwart's Express…" Luna paused dramatically, "because you've got to get on 9 and 3/4." She smiled broadly, enjoying the change in pallor of her friends.

"That was worse than walking in on them during some extended sex acrobats." Hermione groaned and shook the image from her head. "Where's Nova? I'm to meet her relative and…"

"She's gone, Hermione. We didn't know we were to wait for you. The woman had the appropriate papers from the Ministry…" Mandy Brocklehurst cleared her throat nervously, her brilliant blue eyes widening in surprise.

Hermione wrenched her hands free from Draco Malfoy and angrily cast a spell at the imposing vase in the corner of the room. She snarled, far from satisfied as the splintered bits of china surfed across the marble floor, bouncing as it struck the walls. Her magic crackled in the air, fanning her hair out behind her in a delightful array of mussed toffee curls.

"We're too late." Lucius Malfoy whispered, hurriedly gesturing toward a confused Harry Potter.

Harry whistled for Ron as he followed the Malfoy Patriarch into Hermione's office. Blaise and Theo finally deigned to look at each other and with a shrug, hastily followed. Draco ignored them, more concerned with the rising ire of his witch, while he watched her blast various articles decorating the foyer of her Foundation.

Hermione's snarls and grunts while she mumbled to herself would have been amusing under different circumstances. It had been quite awhile since he'd seen her this angry. It gave him hope that his witch was returning to her previously fiery self, though he hoped her wrath was never directed at him.

He remained on the sidelines, barely cringing when she upended Cormac McLaggen's desk. The cacophony of her violent escapades muffled the gentle pop of Apparition upstairs. The intruders marched through the corridors, muffling the sound of their boots with an easy spell.

The largest of small group of three, smiled broadly as he happened upon an empty room. He directed his counterparts toward the haphazard pile of stuffed animals, as he began tearing into the books. It was symbolic more than anything and it appeased his need for disorder.

"Is this really necessary? You said I only needed to collect the child. You didn't mention fuck-all about harming innocent children." Raven angrily shoved her brother, while Daphne sucked her breath between her teeth.

"Oi, just do what you're told." Thorfinn growled angrily, waving his wand over his head. He detected fear in his sister's eyes and held off on the incantation. "Go on then, Raven. Time for you to scream and shout. Make it good." He happily yanked a Death Eater mask over his face and thrust a stuffed elephant into Raven's hands.

Raven swallowed the bile gathering in the back of her throat and ran from the brightly decorated room. She waved her wand, a bit rusty where spells were concerned, and managed to remove the Silencing Charm. Her boots sounded ridiculously loud, even with her heart pounding furiously in her ears.

She hesitated near the top of the steps and drew a large breath into her lungs. She closed her eyes and released her shriek, frightening even herself before launching herself down the steps. Raven squeezed the elephant to her chest, frantically waving her arms, searching for the scar headed wizard she had dealt with earlier.

"Who is she?"

"Why is she screaming?"  
"Get Harry."  
"Is that smoke?"

The fractured questions were lost in Raven's breathless screams, until Luna Lovegood took hold of the situation and slapped her. She took hold of the dark haired beauty and shook her shoulders, until the older witch calmed slightly.

"Death Eaters…" Raven finally gasped, gesturing toward the second floor.

"Where's Nova?" Harry interjected, gripping the witch's elbow tightly, silently communicating with Zabini and Nott of all wizards, to check the upstairs.

"He...he snatched her. Nova wanted her ellie. I didn't know what that meant so I re-returned here and spied the elephant. Sh-she was so happy and then…he-he took her from me and I-I ran." Raven sobbed into Harry's Auror trench, positively riddled with actual worry for niece.

"Malfoy, let me go!" Hermione was suddenly encased in ridiculous strong arms, deep growls emanating from the transforming beast behind her.

"Malfoy, don't you dare. Lucius, let's go. Narcissa, get the girls out of here." Harry drifted easily into the role of his youth and took control of the situation.

Narcissa Malfoy, who had remained silent was instantly barking orders and shoving a shaken Sally-Anne Perks toward the door. Narcissa grasped Mandy's hand and the moment the reached the threshold, she Disapparated with them. Harry didn't bother ordering Draco Malfoy to do anything as it seemed his hands were full with an infuriated Hermione Granger. He made hast to charge up the stairs, but it seemed the wizards he sent to confront the purposed Death Eaters were racing back down the marble stairs, tripping over each other in their expeditiousness.

"Fiendfyre!" Blaise Zabini shouted, shoving Ron Weasley as the roaring blaze snapped hungrily behind them.

Harry froze as he gawked at the mutating fire as it formed gigantic beasts, intent on destroying everything in its path. He couldn't help but to recall his previous foray with Fiendfyre, blinking heavily as he fought to remain in the present. He searched for Luna as the smoke billowed around them, thick and heavy.

"THE CHILDREN!" Hermione howled, kicking Draco's shins, before leaping for her wand, deftly held out of her reach.

Draco looked to Blaise and upon receiving the curt nod of affirmation, Disapparated with his witch. They landed in the midst of Hogsmeade and he expected her to calm the moment she spied the coughing, crying children, but she didn't. She shoved him, punched him even, before racing through the group of children, desperately searching for the towheaded toddler dear to her heart.

"She's not here. She's not here!"

"We'll find her, Granger. I promise." In an attempt to placate her, Draco returned her wand, with a glare of warning before stalking through the throng of children and onlookers.

Theo Nott arrived a moment later, spitting furiously. Blaise held the man in a headlock, refusing to release him, until the man calmed. It was obvious it was going to take more than a well-placed headlock to keep Theo in check and it wasn't more than a moment later, Blaise was sprawled upon the ground. He spun, attempting to return to the Foundation, only to be shoved by Ron Weasley.

"Don't do it, Nott. You can't." Ron clutched his chest, coughing while wiping the black soot from his cheeks.

"We left her! We fucking left her behind!" Theo roared, his hair matted to his forehead, his face streaked with dirt and rushed Ron, tackling the red haired wizard to the ground.

Ron gargled his own saliva, his first instinct to pummel the Slytherin, but one look in the man's eyes and he didn't have the heart. Instead, he gestured toward Harry, who was speaking with Ginny and Cormac of all people and helped Theo to his feet. He sighed with more than a little relief to see Pansy safely beside Luna, but it didn't aid Theo any.

"We can't go back, Nott."

"I can't…just…" Theo wiped his eyes, abjectly refusing to cry in front of Ron fucking Weasley.

"I'll go with you." Hermione interjected quietly, keeping a wary eye on her volatile Veela.

"Come on then, Granger." Theo didn't care who bloody accompanied him as long as he could return and rescue Megan.

He reached forward and grasped her hand, confused by the surprise in the slight brunette's caramel brown eyes and step toward her. He wasn't used to Side-Along-Apparition, but damned if he was going to lose Malfoy's witch on his watch. Theo knew it was dangerous, but he didn't feel there was a choice in the matter, until all hell broke loose.

The unearthly roar, reverberating the windows just behind them, was Theo's first clue something was absolutely amiss. He didn't release his hold on Hermione Granger and it seemed she was shocked into silence. The throaty growl emanating drew closer and his eyes widened.

Draco Malfoy's talons broke free, blackened with a blinding fury as his transformation truly began. His pale skin segued into a slate grey, his teeth elongating into ominous fangs. The wizard's robes split down the seam, releasing muscled arms and sinewy thighs, curled, with the intent to strike.

Theo gulped audibly as the creature approached him quicker than he could blink and lifted him from the ground by his throat. Theo's feet were flailing as his oxygen supply was gradually cut off. Hermione stepped away from Theo, her mouth covered with both hands.

She groaned, realising her error in judgement just as the scaly, yet seemingly feathered grey wings sprouted from his back. Draco snorted, much like a dragon, his talons digging into the supple flesh of Theo's throat, ignoring the vociferous flapping of his wings. The scratching whine in his throat, fueled his anger, his silvery eyes deep as pitch, his magic coursing through his veins begging for blood.

"Malfoy, don't, you mustn't. He didn't mean anything by it. If he had, you know what would have happened. Please." Draco Malfoy, Veela, heard his mate's muffled words, but he couldn't help shaking Theo a bit, satisfied to see his limbs flail helplessly.

Hermione was absolutely terrified to see he had finally Demonstrated and it was her fault. The guilt was almost overwhelming, until she remembered Nova and Megan. She took a chance and stepped toward him, squelching her fear into oblivion and grabbed his forearm. The feel of his dark grey skin didn't revolt her, and she was suddenly intrigued to discover it wasn't rough, nor was it scaly. The appearance belied the reality, giving her the strength to continue in her pleas.

"He's desperate for Megan. You can't blame him. It's my fault, I agreed to accompany him. You can't expect me to leave her there. You can't. I'll never forgive you." At that statement, Draco's head whipped toward her, his hair strikingly white against his Veela form.

Slowly, with regret, he lowered Theo to the ground, pleased to see the man's purple face gasping for breath before he crumpled to his knees. The rage was still fueling him, consuming him almost, yet he carefully pulled Hermione into his arms, almost content to breath her in. He sniffed her hair, covering them with his wings, much to the horror of the witches and wizards surrounding them.

It seemed the long kept Malfoy secret had been revealed, but he would deal with such things at a later time. Now was the time for him to appease the anguish of his mate. He snorted, his biting growls seguing into displeased grunts and Disapparated them to the Foundation.

The grounds were covered in Ministry officials, unrecognizable from the remnants of the Fiendfyre and soot. The Unspeakables, Aurors and even the Investigators were rushing about, working together in order to smother the remaining tendrils of relentless Fiendfyre.

Hermione dropped to her knees, her mouth dropped open in horror. Her Foundation, her life's work, was nothing more than smoldering rubble. The pristine white pillars marking the entrance were barely more than candle stubs. The lush shrubbery was desecrated, wisps of smoke wafting into the late afternoon air.

As the sun set on the day's end, a spectacular site to behold really, Hermione still expected the shimmering marble and limestone to light up the sky. Instead, she was gifted with the sight of flickering flames, impassioned orders being shouted, and a singular Auror meandering through the wreckage.

She expected to see Harry, but she was mistaken. Instead, it was the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who approached her. She didn't recognise him at first, as he was encrusted with filth and ash, not to mention sporting the customary Auror attire. The tall black wizard stared down at her sadly, glancing quickly at the Veela behind her.

Kingsley stepped backwards, out of respect and gestured toward a sobbing Megan Jones. She was a little worse for wear, her blonde curls lightly singed and her spectacles shattered as well as askew. Hermione was pleased to see Theo had recovered and shoved passed the angry officials in order to embrace his witch.

"Did you…" Hermione swallowed hard, struggling to stand from her position and refusing the aid of either wizard, "did you find…anyone else?"

Minister Shacklebolt unbuttoned his trench coat and wiped his damp hands down his dirty face. He could hear the hope in her voice and he didn't wish to be the wizard to crush her spirit, but there was no one better suited for the job. After all, who better than the Minister for Magic?

"There was a note, undisturbed by the fyre, which is decidedly Dark Magic, as you well know." Kingsley sighed, relief settling into his frame when Draco Malfoy slowly transformed back into a recognisable wizard. He paused, allowing young Mr. Malfoy a moment to collect himself and approach Hermione.

"What did it say? What…did they want?" Hermione wobbled on the heels of her shoes, wrenching them free of the sinking mud.

"Revenge, I suppose. We discovered Ms. Jones in the back garden. She put up quite the fight to rush back into the building. We were forced to Stupefy her and Bind her as well. She's quite the witch. She carried on about a child, but it'll take days to discover any…remains." Kingsley flinched, carefully stepping further away from Hermione, if only due to Draco's gnashing teeth.

"What did the note say, Shacklebolt?" Draco Malfoy's hands were firmly placed on Hermione's shoulders, forcing her backward. He hadn't the patience to unravel his witch from the Minister after she attacked him, nor did he wish to be forced into visiting her in Azkaban.

"Now we're even." Kingsley offered the tattered slip of parchment to the duo, gasping lightly as it was ripped from his fingertips.

Hermione Granger was suffocating. The hurried gasps did nothing to assuage the pain. She was unable to fill her lungs, unable to speak, unable to do anything more than furl her petite hands into fists of fury. Her vision seeped red along the edges, her limbs trembling, not out of fear, but absolute, terrifying, all encompassing rage.

Her magic crackled in the air, causing even the Unspeakables to murmur amongst themselves, giving the distraught witch a wide berth. The ground rocked beneath her feet, cracking the cobblestone walk, and still, Draco retained his hold. Her lungs were nearly bursting with the need for breath, but she denied it, unable to focus on anything beyond the palpable rending of her heart.

"I failed." Hermione finally rasped, gulping in great lungfuls of air, pivoting on her mud covered heel to bury her face in Draco's ripped shirt.

He knew there were no words to ease her pain. He couldn't lie to her and tell her it would be alright. He could offer nothing more than the comfort of his arms, but he knew, it wasn't enough. Hermione shook, silently crying, easily soaking the pieces of his shirt and even his bare chest.

He caught her easily when her knees gave out, lowering her where the grasses used to be. Draco kissed her forehead, wiping away the torrent of tears with his thumb, his heart twisting in his chest. He wished nothing more than to take her pain, but he couldn't. In the end, she would have resented him for it, as she was always the sort to face her life head-on, even when it was disagreeable.

Hermione's silent tears grew into low sniffles, muted hiccups, and stuttered breaths. Draco knew it was only the beginning. There was only so long even the brightest witch of the age could deny the crescendo of emotions building within her before her magic exploded. He rocked her gently, even as she began to moan.

Finally, Hermione threw her head back, her mouth wide and downturned. Her eyes were closed to tightly, and Draco was amazed tears were still able to escape. Her whimpers grew into sobs, quickly turning to the wails of the broken hearted and Draco Malfoy cried with her as her keens sounded the night.


	18. Of Hope & Demands

**AN: Ugh my posting schedule is a complete disaster...between holidays and trips, I'm terribly behind. I'm working hard to catch-up, so thanks for bearing with me.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Hope &amp; Demands

* * *

Draco paced the corridors of Malfoy Manor, snarling and snapping at anyone that happened to come near. He banned the house elves from even approaching him and no one else would dare. The whisperings droning onward in the lower levels of the Manor were driving him absolutely mad, but he refused to leave his post.

"She's inconsolable and he's barmy." Harry Potter accepted a tumbler of firewhiskey from Lucius Malfoy and avoided Narcissa's withering gaze.

"I would prefer if you did not insult my son, Mr. Potter." Narcissa whisked from the room as quickly as she entered, displeased with his presence.

"You're not wrong, though," Lucius paused, a warning in his silver eyes, "if you ever repeat that I have agreed with Harry Potter, I'll Avada you on the spot." Lucius arched a pale eyebrow and rolled his dark grey eyes as the sounds of his son's feet stomped over his head.

"Why am I here?" Harry sighed, his green eyes sliding toward a lightly humming Luna, while she waved at the white peacocks preening in the back garden. His fingers itched to reach under her pastel watercolour skirt and bend her over the sideboard.

"Later, Harry. Now isn't the time for such lascivious thoughts. You've got to go and convince Hermione to speak with Draco." Her long hair flowed down her back as she spun toward her love, a hint of promise in her watery blue eyes.

"I'm an Auror! It's my job to track down that bastard that burnt the Foundation to the ground and his Death Eater pals. I'm assuming it was Rowle, Merlin knows he hates Hermione. Greengrass hasn't been spotted and it's been over a week already. I don't know why…"

"Shut up, Harry and go upstairs." Luna shook her head, waving her graceful arms over Harry's head.

Lucius snorted, earning a glare from the insipid Gryffindor, but he was completely nonplussed. He didn't allow the unassuming wizard to intimidate him, considering he had lived under the shadow of Voldemort and his wife was Veela, it would take much more than the likes of Harry Potter. Lucius downed the burning amber liquid and vacated the stifling sitting room in favour of discovering his wife's whereabouts. He had a sneaking suspicion she had escaped in order to contact an irritating French witch.

Harry lurched to his feet, clutching Luna to his chest and breathed her in. She was the type of woman who danced to the beat of music only she could hear and he didn't mind in the least. She calmed him, soothed him, understood him, and even loved him. Harry couldn't ask for more.

"Marry me." Harry whispered into her ear, expecting soft sighs and perhaps even tears.

Instead, he was shocked to be on the receiving end of a particularly hard, jaw jolting, slap. Luna shoved him, hard and Harry fell into the back of the sofa, nearly flying over it. He gasped, grasping his face, even as his cheek reddened and sputtered in confusion.

"Luna! I…why did you…I mean…" Luna huffed, crossing her arms, which only pushed her breasts further up into the ridiculous purple ruffles decorating her collarbone.

"This is about Ginny and Cormac isn't it? You've heard and you don't wish to be left behind. It's only a matter of time before Hermione and Draco say their vows, Ron and Pansy as well. This isn't about me in the least, Harry Potter!" Harry righted himself quickly and attempted to draw her into his arms, but she skirted him quickly.

"Luna, I don't even know what you're talking about. I thought…I think…we have a good thing here and I don't, I don't want to lose you. I don't know why you think anyone else has anything to do with us. I didn't even know about…Ginny and Cormac." Harry wasn't above begging and even Luna faltered in her ire, reaching forward to gently trace his cheek with her pale pink fingertips. "I'm confused and now my face hurts."

"Poor Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived To Be Brought Down By a Slap, how sad for you." Luna crooned softly. Her right hand danced across his wrinkled polo shirt and then she was unzipping his slacks, stroking him through his boxers.

"Luna? I'm…what are you…I mean…gods." It seemed Harry's words were lost and that was exactly the way Luna preferred it. She enjoyed keeping him off balance, after all, being predictable was just so bloody boring.

"Now, I'll finish you off right quick, but I refuse to digest the fruits of your loins. There's no telling what the Infanstic Milvus Furtum's will do." (Baby Stealing Stork - roughly)

"The…the what?" Harry moaned the words as Luna's practiced tongue swirled around his bulbous head, creating a delightful tightening in his abdomen.

"They're eerily similar to the Chizpurfle, but they don't attack magic, they travel through the male's reproductive system. It's why you taste so incredibly bitter and then they travel into my bits and well, Harry. I simply can't risk our child being stolen by some vindictive creature because you dislike spilling on the floor!" Luna didn't bother to wait for his response, lowering her head over his straining cock once more, and sucking hard.

Under normal circumstances, Harry was sure he would have completely deflated, especially considering the unconventional manner Luna had informed him of his impending fatherhood. However, Luna was so bloody talented, it wasn't long before his fingers were caught in her hair and his hips were thrusting into the air, guided by cool fingers grasping his arse.

Luna hummed a little tune of her own making, spurred on by the choked gasps stemming from Harry Potter. She kneaded his pale arse cheeks, forcing his impressive length down her throat, grazing the tip with her teeth, just the way he liked it. Needless to say, there was quite the mess upon the Oriental rug in the Malfoy's sitting room.

Luna haphazardly shoved Harry's limp cock back into his boxers and zipped his slacks with an easy smile. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smoothed her hands across her breasts, ignoring the tingle of longing. Harry gaped at her and she surprised him by grasping his head and kissing him hard. She shoved her tongue into his mouth, molding her body to his and then she pulled away.

"What the fuck Luna? I've got the taste of my own cock in my mouth!" Harry angrily wiped his lips, shaking his head.

"If you can tell me the difference between you kissing me after you've lapped at my lady bits, and me kissing you after having your cock down my throat, I'll readily inform you as to the date our impending child is planning on making an appearance." Luna batted her eyes prettily and waved her wand, satisfied with the effects of her Cleaning Spell.

"Well I don't…I mean…it's just different." Harry sulked, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his blazer. "Does this mean you're not going to tell me now? Do you think I haven't the right to know?" Luna giggled, shrugging her slight shoulders and looping a rainbow scarf around her neck.

"You should cleanse your mouth and have a conversation with Hermione." Luna almost skipped to the door, yet remembered herself, and waved over her shoulder. "Oh, and Harry? Yes, I'll marry you."

"I don't even know what the fuck just happened."

* * *

"Granger, please let me in." An exasperated Draco thumped his head on the heavy oak, resisting the urge to tear the door from its hinges.

He could have, he would have, if it had been anyone else on the other side. He knew she was completely distraught and he didn't blame her. He could feel her heart wrenching pain flow through her as easily as he could breathe. It made his ability to function properly difficult to say the least, but he wasn't complaining.

He simply didn't understand why Hermione was absolutely refusing to see him. It wasn't his fault some fucking Death Eater had burned her beloved Foundation to the ground. He had already promised to rebuild it the moment the Ministry had completed their investigation of the grounds, but he supposed that wasn't the point.

She was waiting, he knew she was waiting. He had tried to take her away from the embers, but Hermione had always been a stubborn witch and she needed to know. She had wept and wailed for hours, her fingers embedded in the sodden grasses, desperately clutching to the idea Nova and the other tots had survived.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had the morose position of approaching the distraught witch and Draco didn't envy the man in the least. He hadn't attempted to touch her and for that Draco was grateful, even as he read the devastating truth in the wizard's chocolate eyes.

"_Please." Hermione clutched at the Minister's slate blue robes with dirt-crusted fingernails, unable to drag her exhausted body to its feet._

"_How many tots were transported back to the Foundation this evening?" Kingsley snatched his hat from his head, crumpling it in his dark fists, much like Arthur Weasley would have._

"_I-I don't…I'm not sure." Hermione's wild brown eyes looked to Draco for the answer and he grit his teeth, grinding them loudly, before hissing a retort._

"_Four." Draco swung Hermione into his arms, against her protests, as the Minister's shoulders sagged with defeat._

"_No…no, you're wrong. You must be wrong. They can't…they were just…" Hermione's knees gave out, her frigid fingers caught in the tears of Draco's dress shirt and mercifully, she was covered in darkness._

_Draco cradled her gently, carrying her with care toward the stone bench near the former entrance of Granger's Foundation for Wayward Witches and Wizards. He pushed her curls off her face and kissed her forehead before looking to the Minister._

"_From what the Investigators were able to piece together, they were gathered together near a storage closet. An older child, larger child at the very least, seemed to be shielding the smaller ones. It will uhm, take a few days to properly identify them, but it seems…" Kingsley blinked and Draco surveyed a singular tear rolling down the man's dark face._

"_The older children?" Draco inquired in a soft, soothing voice, so as not to awaken Hermione, avoiding the curious glances of Aurors and Investigators alike._

"_It seems they were remiss to return and put up quite the fight. Surprisingly your parents decided it was in their best interest to remain at the Manor until Hermione returned. It saved their lives. Most of the house elves have been accounted for as well, I know that's little comfort when taking the tots into account but…"_

"_It's alright, Minister. I'm sure she'll appreciate a bit of good news. If you don't mind, I'd much rather care for her at the Manor than in the face of tragedy." Draco inclined his head, out of politeness, though he hadn't the slightest intention of remaining no matter what the Minister said._

_He hefted Hermione in his arms, covering her exposed limbs with his cloak and Disapparated._

"Dammit Granger!" Draco punched the oak, cringing as his fist cut through the wood, splintering into his hand.

"You're so stupid." Hermione sighed, yanking open the door and dragging him into his childhood bedchamber by the fist.

She rolled her honeyed eyes, forcing him into the lavatory. She didn't say a word as she ran cool water over the thin stream of blood coursing down his fingers. Carefully, Hermione plucked the thin shards of wood from his knuckles and sighed. She dried his hand with a white hand towel before waving her wand to seal the cuts.

"I'm not stupid, I'm angry. I detest it when you keep me away."

Hermione shoved him, completely unmindful of the feelings of rejection that would tear their way to the surface.

Draco doubled over, his lips curling over his extending fangs, growling in pain more than anger. He clawed his way across the deep green carpet, dragging his agony riddled body up the satin bedding until he was flat on his back, hissing through his teeth at the ceiling. His pale cheeks puffed with his laboured breaths, his eyes dark as coal, unable to focus on the nervous witch hovering over him.

"Malfoy? Gods I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. What do I have to do?" Hermione tore open his dress shirt, immediately laying her palms on his chest, her hair swinging into his mouth.

His distress was obvious which only added to Hermione's angst. The guilt was almost overwhelming, overshadowing the grief of loss and she sidled into his side. Hermione forced his stiff arm around her, tossing her leg over his, while gently stroking his face. It seemed to calm him, which was her goal and just when she was about to fetch him a glass of water, he held her still.

"Stay, just stay, love." Draco's voice was barely a whisper, but that didn't stop his hands from casually wandering the length of her back, drawing from her strength. "I need you."

"You have me." Hermione shrugged, in her logically minded sort of way, completely missing the point of his heated words.

Draco hummed in an appreciative manner as the feeling returned to his lungs and the compression of his chest ebbed. He struggled to move, and Hermione tutted against his movements, but he ignored her until he was on his side. He didn't ask permission, as the fear of rejection was still strong as he wrenched her blouse from the waistband of her modest skirt.

With a flick of his fingers, the buttons were undone, her bra vanished in a moment of impatience. Hermione sputtered, but Draco's mouth covered hers so completely, he wasn't able to discern a word. He tasted the remnants of her tears on her lips, licking them, before dipping his tongue into her open mouth. It was easy to roll her onto her back and capture her pushing, struggling hands over her head. It was easier still to remove her skirt, dropping it carelessly on the floor before moving on to her knickers.

His body surged against hers, flattening her perfect breasts even as her erect nipples scraped across his alabaster skin. Draco snapped his fingers, channeling his Veela magicks and vanished his remaining clothes. His left hand pinned her wrists to the bed and he decided he quite liked seeing his witch spread on his green satin sheets.

Hermione whimpered, the sound caught in her throat, even as he bit her lip, sucking it into his mouth until it was almost painful. His right hand slid between her thighs, pushing them apart until they were buried within her. His cock strained, begging to be lodged in its favourite place, but Draco denied his body's wants, first wishing nothing more than to bring her pleasure and remind her of that which she had denied him.

His body throbbed and though Hermione swore her eyes were playing tricks on her, it seemed Draco grew paler than she thought possible. He almost glowed in the low light of the afternoon and the throbbing betwixt her legs grew to almost unbearable heights. Draco broke from her lips to attach to her neck, releasing her wrists in order to cover her body with his own. His nimble fingers worked between her thighs, the sensual circles moving faster and harder. Hermione was gasping, her knees spreading further until she was completely bare for his viewing and he purred in appreciation.

The words repeating in his head reminded him of his purpose, even as he paid homage to her delectable breasts. He denied her the release she so desperately sought, biding his time, thrusting his fingers, teasing the swollen apex, even as she pleaded with him. It was easy to slide into her, his cock throbbing and then Draco paused.

Hermione gurgled in dissatisfaction, her brown eyes fluttering open to question his antics. Draco dragged his left hand down her torso, pausing to tease her breasts and then his palm was pressed against her abdomen. He adjusted his body and hers, until he was on his knees, Hermione's arse cheeks gracing his thighs. Draco began to move, holding her legs still with a hand still firmly pressed on her abdomen.

"What are you…" Hermione's strangled gasp broke the silence and he thrust hard, interrupting her.

"Yours. Mine. Ours." Draco repeated continuously, sometimes in Latin, and Hermione felt the pull of magic brushing her breasts and between her legs. "Say it." He demanded and she shook her head, unwilling to speak that which she didn't understand.

Draco snarled, his thumb instantly teasing her bundle of nerves until her legs began to quake and then he would stop, repeating his demand. Hermione desperately needed her release, being drawn to the edge and back so many times had made her increasingly sensitive and she could nary form a thought beyond her own relief.

"Yours. Mine. Ours." She finally gasped, her head writhing on the sheets, her fingernails digging into his thighs.

"Again." Draco ordered, propping her legs on his shoulders, as he leaned forward to fondle her breasts while he slammed into her, watching her body bounce across his bed, her lips saying the words, chanting them just as he wished.

"Malfoy…I…" She fought the magicks as he knew she would, but it was futile.

"Say my name." Draco hissed, suckling at her throat, no longer in control of his actions. The magicks of his Veela heritage demanded more than she would give. He would not be denied. She would be his.

"Draco." Hermione's back arched so far off the dampened silk sheets, her body was nearly in half. It did not impede his ability to empty his seed into her as the waves of her orgasm clenched him.

He choked, gasping at the force of his release, feeling her walls constrain him and grasped her to his chest, his lips searching for hers. Her body shuddered, slick with sweat and their combined fluids, even as he refused to slip from her body. Gently, Draco laid her upon the sheets, bracing his weight on his forearm while he gazed into her cloudy eyes.

"I'd apologise, but I'm not particularly sorry." Draco smirked, pecking the end of her nose before finally slipping out of her.

"Bastard." Hermione grappled with the satin sheet, quickly covering her nudity. She didn't attempt to rise, knowing he would never allow such a thing, he never did.

"Aw come on now, pet. I can't be a ferret, a git, and a bastard. I am well aware of who my father is after all." Draco toyed with her damp curls, twisting them around his finger, his body sated for the moment.

"You can be a controlling, pompous arse. You're possessive and jealous and…"

"Veela."

"You can't use that as an excuse for everything! I mean, I understand there are certain things beyond your control, but honestly Malfoy." Hermione crossed her arms and Draco had to admit, she made a delectable sight.

Her golden brown curls were spread across the dark green satin sheets, her cheeks still maintained a splotchy sort of flush, her lips were pink and she was the most beautiful witch he'd ever laid eyes on. Draco smiled down at her, enjoying her feisty nature. She glowered at him, but she didn't mean it, not really and that's when he truly realised he couldn't live without her.

"You're marrying me." Draco's forefinger danced along her jawline while he waited for Hermione to absorb his words and he wasn't disappointed.

"Is that your idea of a proposal?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes, her hair scratching across the sheets as she shook her head. "Absolutely ridiculous."

"Malfoys do not request, we demand." Draco lazily drew circles across her breasts with his forefinger, snorting as she attempted to dislodge his legs from her thighs.

"Well I never!" Hermione tossed her hands in the air, resigning herself to her fate even as Draco slowly dragged the smooth sheet down her body.

"Don't lie, love, it doesn't become you."

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy spent most the day avoiding various wings of her own Manor. It perturbed her, but it was necessary. She couldn't venture into her favourite sitting room as Harry Potter and his mad girlfriend were taking drinks with her husband. She couldn't even think of entering Draco's rooms as he was prowling about with a quick snarl for anyone who dared speak to him.

For a moment or two, she had considered the idea of commandeering her husband's study, but had decided against it. She knew he would rail against her invasion and frankly, she hadn't the patience, nor the inclination to deal with his childish behavior.

Narcissa ventured toward their small owlry and impulsively decided to write Apolline a missive. In her heart of hearts, she knew Lucius expected her to do so, but she supposed it would be best to keep the French witch informed of the current situation. She glossed over her son's Demonstration in the midst of Hogsmeade for all their sakes.

It wasn't that she feared Apolline, Narcissa simply had a healthy respect for the woman and decreed it was in their best interest to inform her upon arrival, rather than in a hastily scrawled letter. She imagined Apolline Delacour's ire upon discovering Narcissa's family secret was no longer a secret and shivered.

She was appeased by the fact the Minister for Magic hadn't taken issue with it, despite the murmurings in the corridors of the Ministry. He resolutely stood by them, defended them even, and while Narcissa couldn't say she was particularly fond of the man, she appreciated his efforts to keep her son safe.

"Cissa?" Lucius clamored up the narrow steps, which led to the owlry, and she smiled at the concern in his voice.

"I'm here." She called, petting her favourite eagle owl as she fed him a treat.

"Harry Potter and that wretched witch are doing unspeakable things in your sitting room." Her blue eyes flashed, darkening quickly and Lucius flinched, realising his error.

"I wasn't aware we were in the habit of taking tea with Mr. Potter." Narcissa spat, squeezing the eagle owl just a tad too harshly, causing him to nip at her fingers.

"We're not, my love. He only arrived to see to Ms. Granger. She refused to speak with him and Potter's little witch was…utilising her womanly wiles in order to persuade him to try again." Lucius carefully removed the angry owl from his wife's fingers and held her close.

"If they so much as…"

"Sshhh. Think of it this way, their nefarious activities have provided you an excuse to spend many a galleon and redecorate, just the way you've wished to do." Narcissa perked up considerably and wound her fingers in her husband's long hair.

They were not an affectionate couple, at least in the eyes of the public. However, in the privacy of their rooms, it was another matter completely. Narcissa had always wished her son would inherit his parents' ability to maintain composure, but he hadn't yet mastered it. Instead of focusing on her only child, she twisted her fist in Lucius' hair and dragged his face close to hers, crushing her lips against his.

"Mother? Father? Oh…disgusting." Draco balked, quickly closing his eyes. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I assumed you'd wish to be informed the moment it was necessary to solidify your secretive plans concerning my nuptials." With a hand over his eyes, he waited for his parents to disentangle themselves, hoping to never view such a sight again.

"You've proposed then?" Narcissa didn't release her husband, instead simply removing her lips from his, her arms securely wrapped around his neck.

"Malfoy's do not request. They demand!" Lucius puffed, filled with indignation that his wife, his love would even voice such a thought.

"I've informed her, however, I will require a timeline, sooner rather than later. For the love of Merlin, please remember she's Muggle-born and may wish to implement some sort of Muggle tradition into our wedding. I'd rather prefer you respected it, even if you disagree." Lucius knew from the condescending tone, Draco's words were directed toward him and refused to even entertain the idea of a reply.

"Just before Yule would be best, but before you even think of shouting at me Draco, I know that is absolutely unacceptable. You never were the patient sort. I'm more than aware the Compulsion is wrecking havoc and it would be best to have you properly married before you make me a grandmother. Therefore, the very best I can offer you, is mid-October. It is only a few weeks away and considering Hermione is a Muggle, she may wish to have the banns read. I have been doing my research and Muggle traditions are not much different than Wizarding ones, except for the banns and of course, something referred to as a church. I can't pretend to understand, but if she wishes some sort of Muggle religious figure to reside over your ceremony, so be it." Lucius inadvertently nuzzled his wife's ear, slowly drawing her earlobe between his teeth.

"The first week of October is exactly a fortnight from tomorrow, not a day later." Draco's hand swung to his side and his stomach rolled. He shook his head in disgust and quickly vacated the owlry before he witnessed his parents shamelessly rutting against the stone. There were simply some things that could never be unseen.

* * *

Hours later, after sending Harry on his way with promises to speak in the near future, Hermione paced the length of Draco's childhood rooms. She was wrapped in a thick, dark grey cardigan, resolving to remain in slacks, since they were the only item of clothing that caused Draco's libido to wane. Her loose curls draped near her throat, concealing the numerous love bites decorating her throat and collarbone.

She was pleasantly surprised when Apolline arrived at the Manor, her luggage in tow. Hermione assumed she would be traveling to France or even the Burrow to spend time with her family, but Apolline had other plans. She embraced Hermione quickly, holding her longer than necessary, studying the lines in her forehead with a displeased harrumph.

"I'm too late. It is done." Apolline sighed, resigned to the girl's fate with barely a care. It was the girl's fault really.

"What do you mean?" Hermione grasped the older blonde witch's hand and dragged her to the formal dining room. She knew they wouldn't be interrupted there and quickly asked the elves to prepare refreshments.

"Stupid girl. You cannot contain Veela. You cannot keep Veela prisoner to your own wishes. You cannot order Veela to do anything they do not wish to do. Do you not remember the plight of Voldemort? Do you see how well that ended for him? Draco is Veela. He will not be appeased by the crumbs you seem fit to bestow. He has waited long enough and will wait no longer. Yes, you will be his bride. No longer than a fortnight if I had to guess. You will bear his children. You belong to him and he has simply claimed his right." Apolline gestured toward a forlorn house elf and held her empty flute aloft.

Rosie sniffed noisily, shakily pouring the French witch more champagne. She shuffled back to her position in the corner, silently mourning the loss of her siblings. Hermione looked to the elf questioningly, but Rosie stubbornly mashed her lips together, keeping her bulbous eyes glued to the floor.

"Ms. Granger, you can attend to the needs of Draco's elf at a later time. There are more important things to be discussed. For instance, your parents, will they be in attendance? Would you prefer a traditional, formal event or will your needs be met with a simple family affair? I am aware witches these days are quiet enamored with formal white gowns, but I must say the old traditions of blue were much more personable, but I'm sure whatever you choose will be sufficient…"

"Wait. Stop. This isn't happening. I haven't accepted. He hasn't even properly asked and everyone is just assuming and I…" Hermione sat hard on one of the ornately carved chairs at the formal Malfoy dining table.

"Ms. Granger, we really haven't the time for such theatrics. He is Veela, you are his mate. What more is there to discuss? It was inevitable, my dear." Apolline perused the spread of crudités and canapés with delight.

"This is hardly the opportune time for a wedding. My Foundation was recently burned to the ground, with children inside, in case that escaped your attention. The Aurors still haven't discovered the culprit's whereabouts. Nov…" Hermione's voice broke and Apolline allowed the poor girl a moment to recover, rather than interrupt. "Raven Foster is being held for questioning and you wish me to discuss bloody China patterns?"

"Of course not!" Apolline sipped her champagne glaring as Lucius Malfoy's peacocks wandered a bit too close to the French doors for her liking. "We'd never reduce you to something as quaint as choosing China patterns.

* * *

"I don't know how many times you're going to force me to repeat myself! I haven't seen my brother since I received his owl and met him at bloody Hog's Head. I don't know what he's done and I don't care. He informed me of a child and I went home to discuss it with my husband! Imagine my surprise when I came to the Ministry, under my volition mind you, and I was arrested!" Raven Foster screamed in Neville Longbottom's face until her voice was hoarse.

As for his part, he remained silent, shrugging and vacating the Interrogation Chamber. His quill scribbled across the parchment while he observed her behaviour. It would all be compiled in his report.

"Made any progress?"

"Harry! I wasn't expecting you! Bloody hell, what happened to you?" Neville looked absolutely aghast at his partner's current state.

Harry grimaced and waved his wand, freshening his clothes and removing the wrinkles. He hastily tucked in his polo and adjusted the brown leather belt in his slacks. He was still completely off-kilter after his encounter with Luna and only sought to distract himself.

"Yeah uhm, we're not going to discuss that now. Have you attempted Veritaserum?" Harry gestured toward the furious witch, sensing truth to her words.

"Ach no, I was waiting for you honestly, but it wasn't hard to discern the fact a Memory Charm was used on her." Neville shrugged, his towering form quite intimidating to anyone that didn't know him.

"Why do you keep questioning her then? It seems out of character for you to needle her if you're well aware of the fact she can't remember." Harry scratched his head, quickly shoving his round spectacles up the bridge of his nose.

The two wizards observed the raven-haired beauty, deciding her name was quite suited for her. She ranted and raved, shouting obscenities and kicking over chairs before pounding her petite fists on the metal table. Her long dark hair rippled down her back, her sapphire eyes glinting with rage and the slightest hint of madness.

"Well, never mind then. I think I'll give it a go." Harry tucked his wand in the back pocket of his Muggle jeans, never adhering to Mad-Eye Moody's advice, and with a wry grin, entered the Interrogation room.

"Fantastic, now I'm to be harassed by Harry Potter. Let's make this quick yeah?" Raven Rowle Foster slammed her palms onto the shiny metal table and sat in one of the hard metal chairs she had finally righted.

"Legilimens." Harry didn't waste time trying to glean information from the difficult witch. He always found it easier to simply drift through their memories and discover their hidden truths without their aid.

Harry was intrigued by her memories, though he'd never voice such a thought. He found it interesting to see a Pureblood witch up and leave the Wizarding World for the love of a Muggle. While he couldn't imagine his life without magic, he could see Raven had managed perfectly fine.

He was saddened to see her husband Anderson begging her for a child and her refusal, with fear in her eyes. Considering Thorfinn Rowle was her half brother and her less than ideal childhood, he supposed he could understand her choices. She tried to happy and had acclimated to Muggle life with relative ease.

Harry discarded numerous memories, not wishing to delve into the private moments of her life, simply searching for information concerning Thorfinn Rowle and Nova Cooper. He found it strange to see Nova's mother Madeleine, embrace Raven as if they were old friends, while Dylan Cooper and Anderson Foster shook hands as mates. He'd never witnessed Muggles so at ease with witches and wizards and he couldn't help but to reflect on his own childhood.

Finally, he came upon the information he was seeking. It wasn't much, but it was something. Harry observed Raven removing the letter from a barn owl's leg and read the words with shaking fingers. He watched the way she sighed, eyes closed, letter pressed to her chest. Harry followed along, carefully listening to Thorfinn and Raven's conversation within Hog's Head and then everything went dark.

Harry knew then, poor Raven had been Obliviated by her brother and it would take a talented witch to reverse the effects. He withdrew from her mind, shaking his head, as it was always a tad fuzzy after probing through someone else's memories.

"You knew he Obliviated you." Harry tapped his fingers on the metal table, giving Raven a moment to collect herself. He knew better than anyone it was exhausting to have someone invade your thoughts.

"Of course I knew. I lost days. My husband was concerned. What did you want me to do about it? Confront him? There's no telling what a wizard like Thorfinn will do." Raven wearily raised her head from the crook of her arm, her dark hair damp and pasted to her forehead.

"Why did you come to the Ministry?" Harry propped his face in his hand, curious.

"I wished to enquire of the child. I…we didn't know Madeleine and Dylan had died, let alone had a child. If we had known,…we would have come forward. It isn't right to abandon your family." Raven wiped her face with the bell sleeve of her robes, the bulk of her anger dissipated. Now, she wished nothing more than to go home.

"Madeleine and Dylan Cooper were murdered during the after effects of the War. Their daughter Nova was a babe in arms at the time and she flitted from temporary home to temporary home until Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy opened a Foundation for misplaced children. She's been well cared for and Ms. Granger wished to adopt her. Though, now that we're aware Nova has blood relatives, it's impossible. It's simply a matter of…" Harry paused, swallowing hard. "There was an act of arson committed at the Foundation. Most of the children had been evacuated, but it seems your brother…"

"Half-brother." Raven spat, digging her fingernails into her palms.

"Yes, it seems he was responsible and from witness accounts, you were present as well. Personally, I believe you were nothing more than a pawn to breach the wards, though I must inform you, at this moment, we're unsure if Nova is alive or dead." Harry offered the witch a crumpled handkerchief and she snatched it from his fingers, quickly wiping her eyes.

"He wouldn't kill her. If Thorfinn knows how much the child means to this particular witch, he'd use her as bait. He'd send Ms. Granger scathing letters and teases of Nova's existence. Thorfinn always was the sort of bloke who enjoyed other's misery. He told me of her, the girl. He said I could keep her or kill her, he didn't care. She's my family, my husband's blood and he didn't care. He didn't care." Raven's hands limped dropped to her lap, her eyes downcast and Harry knew she had lost her fight.

He understood. It was harrowing to discover how much one's family didn't care for you and yours. Harry had come to terms with his Muggle family's hatred when he was still nothing more than a child. It seemed Raven had left her magical family behind for the love of a Muggle, only to be despised.

"You know, my Muggle family…" Harry believed it would aid Raven to learn she wasn't alone, but it seemed to have the opposite effect as her head whipped up, her blue eyes glowering at him.

"I don't care, Mr. Potter. Find Nova…just…find her."

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle bounced a certain little blonde toddler on his knee, quite pleased with himself. He chuckled as she poked his chest with her tiny little fingers and squeezed his nose. She was a pretty little thing, and he felt a sense of pride knowing he had managed to take, that which meant so much to that interfering filthy little Mudblood.

He reclined upon a dark green brocade sofa, patting the girl's back. He knew it wouldn't be long before his cohorts arrived. He imagined they'd be absolutely aghast at their current predicament, but quite honestly, he hadn't been able to resist the temptation. Rowle silently thanked Merlin for his good fortune.

He chortled, chasing that ever elusive feeling of happiness in his chest, even as he thought of his sister. Thorfinn was fond of Raven, as fond as he could be of anyone and it really tickled his fancy that she had been so easily manipulated. As if he'd simply hand over his best playing piece to some Muggle loving poor excuse for a witch? It was laughable really.

"Mummy?" The blonde toddler glanced around the stiflingly warm room, frowning.

"You don't need to worry about your _Mummy_." Rowle's deep belly laugh bounced Nova and she giggled happily before snuggling into his chest.

Strangely, he was satisfied holding the toddler. Thorfinn closed his eyes, easily drifting off to slumber. His dreams were filled with one particular Muggle-born witch writhing on the floor, in a puddle of blood, begging for death. And he smiled.


	19. Of Struggle & Surprises

**AN: So here we are. I still haven't decided how everything is going to end, but that's alright. This story is taking on a life of its own...I think of this chapter as somewhat of a catalyst. I do believe it's time for our lovely little Hermione to regain a bit of her fire.**

**As always...enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Of Struggle &amp; Surprises

* * *

The raven-haired beauty was significantly uncomfortable standing on the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. Her tall, blond companion was ill at ease as well, causing the duo to be the topic of conversation as various witches and wizards scurried passed, each eager to peruse the newcomers. He held her hand tightly, fear in his hazel green eyes as an odd little wizard Apparated directly in front of them.

He'd never seen such a sight and vowed to never witness such oddities again, if it could be helped. He wondered why he had agreed to accompany his wife, cursing his decisions even as a red haired wizard and his lovely companion smiled at them kindly. He felt completely out of place in his blue jeans and black polo, noticing the people around them were dressed in robes of some sort.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" He was forced to bend considerably in order to whisper into his wife's ear, yelping as a firm hand slapped his back.

"Oi, sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you or anything. Harry sent us, he's been delayed. I'm Ron Weasley and this is Pansy Parkinson. We thought you'd be more at ease at the Burrow. If you'd just follow us…" Ron gestured toward a strange shop near the corner and the dark haired woman slid her eyes over Pansy.

"Parkinson. I remember the name. I wasn't aware your family consorted with blood traitors." Plump, blood red lips pursed in silent judgement.

"Well, if it isn't Raven Rowle. I wasn't aware the Rowle family made a habit of denying their heritage and running off to live with Muggles. It seems we've both broken the chains of our ancestry." Pansy refused to sneer, though it was difficult.

"I must say, when Raven told me she was a witch, I always thought it was some sort of metaphor. Anderson. Anderson Foster." The tall blond held out his hand, unsure if wizards even shook hands, but then Ron Weasley was grasping it, pumping it easily.

"My dad can't wait to meet you. He's always been intrigued with Muggles and Hermione isn't one to spend her day having strange little conversations with my dad. Her days are full considering she's rebuilding her Foundation and marrying Malfoy. Come on then, I'm sure my mum is fixing a feast and I'm starved." Ron ignored the posturing between the witches and pecked Pansy's cheek.

He had no desire to be caught in their catty behaviors and decided to walk with Anderson the Muggle. Ron knew his father would be overjoyed, reminiscent of his interest in Hermione's father, but Anderson didn't have a little Hermione to spoil the joys of the Wizarding World. He pointed out various shops, explaining their wares, and left Raven and Pansy to their own devices.

The ring he had purchased with Draco Malfoy continued to burn a hole in his pocket, but there hadn't been an opportune time to broach the subject. Ron had planned an elaborate meal and even a carriage ride, but then Hermione's Foundation had burned to the ground and it became a manhunt for Thorfinn Rowle. He managed to keep a smile on his face just the same, and carefully led Anderson Foster into the joke shop.

He led them to the backroom, forgetting the Floo had been disconnected for security purposes. Ron looked to Pansy, who only offered a small shrug. He decided not to warn the poor Muggle and grasped his hand. Pansy did the same with Raven, who was expecting something of this magnitude, and Disapparated.

"Bloody hell! You lot do this all the time then?" Anderson's knees buckled and he gripped the frozen grasses with desperate fists, willing his breakfast to remain firmly lodged in his stomach.

"Sorry about that, I suppose I should have warned you. Take a few deep breaths and the disorientation shouldn't last more than a few minutes." Ron slapped the Muggle's back again and with a gentle push, directed him toward the Burrow.

Raven and Pansy continued to glower at each other, yet managed to wander down the small incline without scathing words being exchanged. Ron sighed heavily, wishing he wasn't forced to spend his day babysitting a Muggle and a lapsed witch, but it was better than listening to Hermione rant and rave.

"Oh Ron, you're here! Lovely! Come on then, don't stand out here gaping. Harry's sent a missive and the poor Muggle looks as though he needs a bit of tea. Apparition is quite disorienting for non-magic folks." Molly Weasley embraced her son as if she hadn't seen him in eons, before quickly turning to her guests.

"Alright as lovely as this is…I've things to do." Pansy kissed Ron's cheek quickly and hurried to the Apparition point as fast as her tiny feet would take her.

Raven Foster's eyes narrowed at the unkempt witch, her pureblood tendencies rearing their ugly head, before she forced herself to smile. Anderson took his cue from his wife and offered his hand, but Molly tutted and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Mum, the letter?" Ron prodded as the awkward group stepped into the warm and inviting Burrow.

Molly reached into the pocket of her patchwork quilt and thrust the sealed parchment into his large hands. She gestured toward the quaint great room, her lips pursed together in displeasure, before dragging her youngest son off to the kitchens.

"You didn't tell me we'd be harbouring Raven Rowle." Molly hissed, Silencing the kitchen.

Ron sighed, his watery blue eyes drawn to the potatoes peeling themselves and the dishes flying into the cupboard. He scratched his head, groaning slightly and slumped into a wooden chair.

"Harry told me not too. He didn't think you'd be too keen on…"

"Well of course not! Her family…" Molly thrust her chest, huffing loudly while she sputtered.

"She's not her brother. She left the Wizarding World and she married a Muggle. Her brother Obliviated her in order to gain Nova, so give her a bit of a break yeah?" Ron waved his wand, removing the Silencing Charm and with a shake of his head, ventured into the great room.

He hadn't taken more than a few steps, when the door of the Burrow burst open and his sister rushed inside. Ginny pushed passed her older brother with her palm firmly pressed over her mouth. Ron frowned heavily and moved to shut the door when none other than Cormac McLaggen stood in the doorway.

Ron's mouth opened, his tongue already forming some choice words for the wizard who ruined Harry and Ginny's relationship. He had heard the rumours of Ginny's infidelity, but Ron would much rather place the blame on Cormac. He'd never been particularly fond of the pompous arse as it was. The fact his sister continued to dally with the bloke, well that only made Ron's hatred grow.

Cormac barely glanced at Ron, striding passed him in order to follow Ginny. His palm slapped the swinging door as he pushed open the kitchen door, allowing it to swing behind him. Cormac smirked lightly as it struck Ron in his haste.

"What's wrong with her?" Molly dabbed the back of Ginny's neck with a damp tea towel as the youngest Weasley lost the contents of her stomach in the sink.

Molly smoothed the back of Ginny's dark grey dress, her eyes narrowing as she deduced the situation. She rounded on Cormac, grappling for her wand, but Ginny managed to grasp her mother's arm, her head still in the sink basin. She waved her left hand and Molly gasped.

"Well you see…" Cormac cleared his throat, well aware of the fact he was surrounded by angry Weasleys and paused.

"You're engaged?" Molly shrieked and even Ron stuck his finger in his ear with a wince.

Ginny shook her head, finally rinsing the acrid taste her mouth with warm water. She snatched the tea towel from the back of her neck and wiped her lips, before tossing it back into the basin. She crossed the cramped quarters and clung to Cormac, laying her head on his chest.

Molly was surprised to see the careful way he enclosed his arms around her. He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead before taking a deep breath. Molly, however was drawn to the way Ginny's left hand dropped to her stomach, and closed her eyes.

"For the love of Circe. Your father is going to have both your heads. I hope you're prepared. It isn't bad enough you left Harry for this…this…ridiculously tall, rather easy on the eyes…" Molly fanned her face, flushing heavily.

"Mum!" Ron gagged, his wand brushing the small of Cormac's back while he decided which spell would be best to use in this situation.

"Mrs. Weasley, I realise we've never been properly introduced. I also realise I'm sure you've heard many…unpleasant…things as far as I'm concerned." Cormac paused, refusing to comment on Ron's incredulous guffaw. "I'm well aware my less than fortunate reputation precedes me and I regret to say, as a child I made questionable decisions…"

"Questionable decisions? You hated us and we were in the same bloody House! You harassed Hermione! You…you…" Ron sputtered, waving his arms angrily, but his it was his mother who put an end to his outrage.

"Ron, see to our guests. I'll handle this." Molly's low, menacing voice was the law and while Ron protested, mumbling angrily under his breath, he vacated the kitchen as directed.

Cormac supported Ginny with a strong arm braced along her back, and carefully forced her to sit at the long wooden table. It was obvious he cared for the girl and even Molly's hard edges softened, deciding to give the boy the benefit of the doubt.

"Alright then, well, you lot can have the privilege of informing your father. I imagine he'll be quite displeased to learn his only daughter and her boyfriend…"

"Husband." Ginny whispered, grappling to hang onto Cormac's hand.

"What did you say?" Molly fell into the nearest chair, her hand over her heart, her bright brown eyes wide.

"Mrs. Weasley, It's obvious this comes as a great shock to you. Fact of the matter is, I've been asking Ginevra for weeks. I wished to come speak with you and Mr. Weasley to properly ask for her hand, but the idea scared her a fair bit. In light of the current circumstances…"

"You're speaking of the glaringly obvious fact you've impregnated my only daughter…please, continue." Molly's shock seemed to have worn off, only to be replaced with the ever famous Weasley temper.

"Do you love her?" Arthur Weasley had casually slipped into his home through the backdoor and caught enough of the conversation to come his own conclusions.

He placed his hands firmly on Molly's shoulder, keeping her from rising, as well as alerting her to his presence. Arthur watched the way the tall wizard hovered near his daughter, his eyes barely straying from her pale face. He caught the way his only daughter stroked the fingers laying on her shoulder and even the subtle smile on her lips.

"Yes, sir." Arthur was pleased when the wizard didn't hesitate and nodded. "It's been a devil of a time convincing her however. She is quite the stubborn little witch."

"Yes well, she gets it from her mother. Those Prewett genes are quite strong, Merlin knows Ron has more than his fair share." Arthur scratched his balding head and squeezed Molly's shoulders affectionately. "I'd wager congratulations are in order."

Molly wiped the tears from her eyes and lurched to her feet. She sniffled loudly and practically yanked Ginny from her seat. Molly embraced her daughter quite tightly, rocking her to and fro.

"My baby…married…and I wasn't there!" Molly howled, giving Ginny one last bone crushing squeeze and wiped her cheeks with her apple red apron.

"Actually," Cormac shook Arthur's hand with a firm grip, pleasing his new father-in-law greatly, "we wanted to discuss having some sort of celebration of sorts here. I know it would mean the world to Ginevra and who am I to deny her?"

"That's a lovely idea actually. I'm sure we've more than enough food to entertain a few more guests, isn't that right Molly?" Gently, Arthur peeled Molly away from their daughter, anchoring her to his side with an easy smile.

Cormac decided that despite the strange mannerisms of Ginevra's parents, he quite liked them. Of course, he would have preferred if they were a bit more refined considering his heritage, but in the end, it didn't matter. Cormac knew he had lofty ideals, a propensity for name-dropping and was a bit on the snobbish side, but he loved her, therefore he would learn to love her family.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here? Dad! You're supposed to be explaining magic to that Muggle and…and…why is Mum crying? Why is _he_ still here?" Ron was waving his arms, his face the perfect combination of confusion and anger and Cormac smirked.

"Ron, do control yourself. It seems we've a celebration to prepare for. I'd like you to send a few owls and then aid your mother in the kitchen." Arthur channeled his inner no nonsense wizard, and even Ron couldn't find the heart to argue with him.

"Would someone like to tell me what's going on?" Ron clenched his teeth, his fingers itching to jinx McLaggen.

"I married Cormac. Send the owls would you?" Ginny rolled her eyes, calmly sipping the piping hot peppermint tea her mother had forced on her.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass carefully followed Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, thrilled to see Hermione Granger was not padding after them as if she were a forlorn puppy. Her nose crinkled, quite displeased with her attire, but it was necessary.

She'd have him in the end. She'd destroy everything he'd built with the disgusting little Mudblood. She'd make him see he'd chosen wrong. He was always meant to be hers.

"Granger? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Manor with the children?" Daphne started, completely unprepared to actually converse with anyone.

She pasted on a congenial smile and turned, patting her disgusting frizzy curls. Daphne's eyes immediately narrowed and it took her a second to regain her footing. She gazed at the dark haired witch and her smile faltered, but Pansy didn't notice.

"Yes well, I needed a book." Daphne shrugged lightly, sure the common answer would be sufficient. She relaxed as Pansy's head bobbed in easy acceptance.

"How are you faring? I know losing the little girl was hard on you. She was a pretty thing." Pansy's eyes never stopped moving and Daphne simply knew the poor girl was uneasy.

Of course, it was to be expected. Pansy had betrayed her peers after all. It was a wonder she left her home unescorted. Daphne had managed to jinx the girl herself a few times and reveled in the fear in her former friends eyes.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? She isn't dead." Daphne inwardly cringed at her blatant faux pas, but Pansy only awkwardly patted her forearm.

"Normally, I'd berate you for being such a hopeful little Gryffindor, but if that's what you need to do, than so be it. As for me, I'm to meet Lovegood for lunch. I'll see you at the Burrow later. Don't forget or Molly will have your head." Pansy waved over her shoulder with a tiny shrug, quickly getting lost in the crowd.

Daphne smiled to herself, quite pleased with her performance and took another hearty gulp of her flask. She shuddered in revulsion, deciding she was never going to drink 'essence of Granger' again for the rest of her days. She stared at her reflection, completely revolted, but if she had to become Hermione Granger to have Draco Malfoy…so be it.

She wasted more than an hour of her time, knowing Draco and Harry were more than likely well on their way to being intoxicated. Daphne knew she needed his perception altered in order to fool him. She hadn't bothered to study the Rituals of Veela, as they didn't concern her in the least.

Daphne knew if Draco had a choice in the matter, he would have chosen someone more appropriate. Someone exactly like her. She recalled their times in Hogwarts fondly, always wishing she had managed to shag him. Daphne had detested the way he held her off, but now it was her time. She could forgive him for his dalliances. She could forgive him for anything.

Daphne Greengrass adjusted her maroon blouse, buttoning it to her throat with disgust. Her gray tweed skirt was much longer than she would have liked, but perfect for portraying Miss Prissypants. She stepped into the Leaky Cauldron with wide eyes and a hesitant smile, searching for the wizard she desired.

"We're gonna be late, Malfoy. D'ya have any idea what Molly's gonna do to us?" Harry Potter's head wobbled on his neck, his green eyes especially bleary, and yet he continued to sip from his pint.

"Potter, we're drunk. She's gonna hex my bollocks and then I'll never impregnate my wife." Draco's pale hair fell into his eyes and he hiccupped loudly.

"I've already impregnated mine. Did I tell ya? She sprung it on me while my cock was in her mouth." Harry giggled, wobbling on his stool.

"That's disgusting."

"It was in the Manor." Harry smiled, raising his pint in a silent 'cheers' before finishing it and wiping the foam from his upper lip.

"I'm going to tell my mother." Draco belched, his head finally falling to the polished cherry wood of the bar top.

"That's not even funny. I'm going to be sick." Harry slid from his stool, wobbled on his feet, and walked toward the loo on shaky limbs.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Daphne crossed her arms and tapped her foot in an expert manner, quite pleased with herself.

"Fuck." Draco's bloodshot and bleary eyes blinked as he gazed upon the witch beside him. "Thought you were busy with the children….and the crying…so much bloody crying." He rubbed his eyes, the alcohol taking over his senses, keeping him completely unaware of the truth.

"I was," Daphne shifted on her feet, quickly formulating a believable story to appease his curious nature. "Molly wants us at the Burrow, but I thought we could discuss some things first." She took a small step forward, then another, and soon her arms wound around his neck.

"Speaking sounds horrid." Draco mumbled against her throat, frowning as her scent wasn't quite what he thought it should be.

"I'm sure we'd both find it quite…pleasurable." Daphne's breathy little whisper alerted Draco something was amiss, but then her hand was in his lap, stroking him and he lost all sense of reason.

"Let's go home. You do it. I'll splinch us." Draco groaned lightly into her ear and grasped her around the waist. Daphne panicked for a moment, knowing she wasn't capable of such a feat. She hadn't the slightest idea where Draco and that Mudblood lived.

"Let's be saucy. There are rooms here." Daphne nipped his throat and pulled him from the barstool.

Moments later she was laughing as they stumbled into a lightly musty room. Daphne was immediately kicking off her shoes and pushing Draco towards the bed. She didn't want to give him a chance to regain his faculties. She wanted to amaze him and keep him securely mellow in a delightful land of haze.

Daphne unzipped his dark slacks, while wiggling out of her blouse. Draco reclined upon the bed with his eyes closed as the room spun. He knew he shouldn't have ventured to the pub with bloody Potter. He knew it was a bad idea the moment it was suggested, but now that Hermione was hovering over him, Draco was rethinking it all. He wished he hadn't drunk as much as he had. He wished he could sense her…

His eyes flew open and he struggled to sit up. Draco pushed on the lightly tanned shoulders, gasping as a particularly talented tongue paid homage to his cock. He would be lying if he said he hadn't paused for a moment, but the emptiness was consuming him.

Daphne stupidly chuckled, humming as she drew his length further down her throat. She had dreamt of returning to this moment for years. She didn't understand why he was pushing against her shoulders, but she didn't let it sway her from her task.

She was furious with Thorfinn Rowle. That bastard didn't care a wit what she wanted. He was determined to have Hermione Granger begging for her life, on her knees, no less. Daphne had much loftier plans. She was going to trick Draco Malfoy into marrying her. She was going to be the next Lady Malfoy.

Daphne Greengrass dug her long red fingernails into his thighs, completely unaware her Polyjuice had worn off moments before. She closed her eyes, visions of walking toward her obsession dancing behind her eyes. She frowned, realising Draco was flaccid and sighed heavily.

"Perhaps you're just to drunk for this after all. Shame." Daphne wiped the corner of her mouth and looked into eyes black as pitch.

She shrieked, scrambling to her feet, but it was too late. The snapping, growling Veela caught her without expending the slightest bit of energy. Large, black talons pierced the supple skin of her throat. Daphne's feet dangled, while her body was lifted from the floor, her back smashing into the dated wallpaper.

The silvery wings would have intrigued her under different circumstances. Now, they simply instilled terror. Daphne thrashed, kicking out at him, which only fueled his fury. His teeth snapped audibly, his lips pulled back over his gums and Daphne shuddered upon spying his fangs.

His sharp beak opened, releasing a sound that made her ears bleed. It was forlornness, heartbreak, and ire, wrapped neatly with a little bow. Daphne knew it was the last sound she would ever hear, but she was wrong. The last sound Daphne Greengrass ever heard, was the bones of her neck snapping with a simple flick of Veela wrist.

* * *

Raven Foster was less than pleased with her current surroundings. It seemed her husband, Anderson, was content enough and for that she was thankful. Raven never imagined she'd be in hiding from the likes of her brother. She should have known better. She did know better, but it was the child that had pulled at heartstrings.

She prayed, to gods both old and new, wizard and Muggle, for the safety of her husband's niece. Raven had liked Madeleine well enough and to learn of her fate secondhand was more painful than Raven wanted to admit.

She swore to raise the girl and love her as her own. Raven knew Anderson was just as worried, just as concerned, but he managed it better. He squeezed her hand occasionally, or even kissed her brow, while conversing with Arthur Weasley and it helped.

"Harry's drunk." George Weasley commented casually, as if it were an every day occurrence. Raven supposed it was completely possible and shrugged.

"Wait. What do you MEAN you're engaged?" Ron shouted, which wasn't the least bit surprising and even managed to give Harry a bit of a shake.

"Uh yeah. I asked Luna and after some uh…convincing…she said yes." Harry nodded ever so slowly, obviously pleased with himself.

"That's now how it happened at all. Fact of the matter is, I was sucking his co—"

"LUNA!" Ron clamped his freckled hand over Luna Lovegood's mouth and even Arthur looked relieved. Anderson snickered, hiding his laughter behind his wife's back, as it seemed safest. "My sisters gone off and married bloody McLaggen, Harry. Cormac McLaggen!"

"Yeah so? He loves her, that's what you're sposed to do and stuff." Harry wavered on his feet and allowed George to seat him on a lumpy armchair.

"You're engaged. Hermione's bloody marrying Malfoy. This was supposed to be my day! I was finally going to do it! I went fucking jewelry shopping with Malfoy! I asked Malfoy's permission!" Ron thrust his hand into the pocket of his dark brown corduroys and removed a plum velvet box. "I was going to ask her marry me! I'm going to look like a fool now! She's going to think I'm going doing it because you lot have! You're all a bunch of wankers!" Ron shook the box angrily and it flew from his fingertips.

It bounced along the wooden floor and all the eyes in the room watched its journey, curious as to where it would stop. There was a collective gasp as it slapped a severely pointed black heel.

"Spotted dick?" George wiggled his eyebrows, hiding a plate behind his back, silently counting to three, hoping to diffuse the instant tension.

"Spotted? It's not spotted! I BLOODY TOLD YOU IT WAS A RASH!" Ron's face was a wonderful shade of red and George could barely contain his laughter as he held the plate aloft, laden with a delightful pudding.

Pansy Parkinson bent to retrieve the plum velvet box. She studied it for a few seconds before snapping it open. She gasped, snapping the box shut, her eyes flitting from Weasley to Weasley, searching for an answer. Pansy opened the box again, studying the ugliest ring she'd ever laid eyes on.

She knew Ron had carefully chosen the ring, but she couldn't contain her laughter. Pansy laughed because he'd actually approached Draco Malfoy. She laughed because a multi-coloured flower gem ring was the last thing she'd ever wished for. She laughed because he was so nervous and she laughed because she loved him.

"Yes."

"Look what you di—what was that? Did…did you say yes?" Ron quickly abandoned the plate of spotted dick and George for that matter to hurry to Pansy's side. "I didn't even get to properly ask…"

"Doesn't matter, answer is still the same. Kiss me then?" Pansy held the box aloft, patiently waiting while Ron fumbled, finally sliding it onto her finger. He kissed her long and hard, filled with relief.

When Hermione stumbled into the Burrow alone, drunken Harry frowned, even in his current state. He was certain Malfoy had returned home to retrieve Hermione. He scratched his head, struggling through the encompassing haze of intoxication and lurching to his feet.

"Oi, where's Malfoy?"

Hermione skirted passed a thoroughly snogging Pansy and Ron with a small smile. She stepped toward Harry, her nose wrinkling as the smelled the firewhiskey and ale coming off him in waves.

"I wouldn't know? I thought he was with you." Hermione waved to Arthur, her golden brown eyes searching for Ginny and Molly.

"Nope. Went to piss and he was gone. Thought he went to retrieve you from the Manor." Harry hiccupped loudly, covering his mouth as an after thought.

"Why would he go to the Manor? Hermione was just outside the Leaky Cauldron when we spoke hours ago." Pansy had finally dislodged her lips from Ron's long enough to aid to the confusion.

"I wasn't in Diagon Alley today. I spent the day interviewing prospective parents for some of the older children and a few of the babes. I sent Malfoy and Harry to the pub to celebrate Harry's engagement and to quite frankly get Malfoy out of my hair. He was driving me batty." Hermione dropped her overcoat on the nearest armchair and lurched as a lightning ripple of discomfort filled her chest. "Something's wrong." She gasped, placing her right hand over her heart.

"Yeah something's wrong alright. My best mate told me he proposed to Luna by owl. My sister married bloody Cormac and my mum has invited Draco Malfoy into our home." Ron grumbled, finally ripping into the spotted dick.

The lynx Patronus danced into the Burrow, causing Anderson to gasp and clutch at his wife's hand. Harry groaned, knowing he wasn't quite fit for duty. He hoped it wasn't anything too dire.

_Murder at the Leaky Cauldron. Suspect clamoring for Harry Potter. Report at once._

The simple words repeated once more, ever so calm, before the lynx dissolved into nothingness. Harry stared wide-eyed, attempting to process the message from the Minister for Magic.

Arthur was the first to move, rummaging through the cupboard nearest the hearth. He removed a small amber bottle and thrust it into Harry's hand. When the inebriated wizard only blinked, Arthur shook his head, removed the cork, and poured the contents into Harry's mouth.

"Sobering Potion. Give it a moment and you'll be right as rain."

Harry immediately grasped his head as the pounding began. Yes, he was absolutely sober and absolutely regretted it. He knew he couldn't ask for a Headache Tonic as well, knowing Molly would lecture him.

"Ugh, I feel awful." Harry groaned, hunching over his knees.

"Serves you right. Go on then!" Molly waved her wooden spoon from the doorjamb of the kitchen as a freckled brown owl swooped down over her head.

Harry caught the bird easily, petting its head while he removed the rolled piece of parchment. Ron held up a crumb of spotted dick and then the little owl was gone. Harry unrolled it slowly, his eyeballs literally throbbing.

"It's Malfoy isn't it?" Hermione's hand fluttered near her throat and she could read the answer in his eyes. "What's happened? You bloody tell me right now, Harry. You can't keep this from me. You can't."

Harry Potter cleared his throat noisily and shuffled his feet. He didn't want to tell her, or anyone else for that matter, what the letter had said. He supposed it was a kindness on the Minister's part, but even so. Harry didn't relish the idea of being on the receiving end of Hermione Granger's anger. He decided it was best to speak quickly while making his exit.

"Daphne Greengrass has been killed." Harry patted his wand, thankful it was safe and secure in his back pocket as he waited for the onslaught of rage.

"Where is he?" Hermione's eyes were squeezed tightly shut and frankly, that scared Harry more than anything else. He'd rather she was screaming, slapping, or threatening. Her silence was absolutely deadly.

Harry's green eyes silently begged Molly to go to Hermione and the matronly witch did. She dropped her spoon and hurried to Hermione's side, squatting beside the quiet witch. Molly brushed the thicket of curls from Hermione's neck and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders in preparation for Harry's words.

"Azkaban."


	20. Of Ire & Consequences

**AN: Hello my lovelies! You have not been forgotten, I swear it! ;) I can't promise regular updates until I'm no longer a transient, but hey, at least the hotel has internets. I've proofread this chapter until it's been memorised so if there are errors, well that's just too bad, I'm over it.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Ire &amp; Consequences

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle was more than ready to murder a toddler. In the beginning, it had been enjoyable. She'd been a sweet young thing, ready with a smile and a snuggle. Now however, she was a terror of Weasley proportions. Fred and George would have been proud.

"Stop that! Give that back! That's my wand you little…" Thorfinn tripped over the side table in his haste to capture the ever-elusive toddler.

"NO!" Nova Clearly Cooper stamped her little feet, waving Thorfinn's wand as she ran through the flat.

She didn't know where she was. She didn't know where the nice brown haired lady was. She didn't know anything except she was tired of playing with the big smelly man. Nova giggled, hiding the wand behind her back while she hid beneath the eating table. She decided it was funny to watch the big man trip over things, until he caught her.

"You little bitch. I should kill you." Thorfinn twisted Nova's blonde curls in his hand, dragging out from beneath the table.

"Bad." Nova waved her finger in his face, using her other hand to smack at the fist in her hair. "No nice!" Thorfinn ripped his wand from her tiny fist and shoved it against her throat. His fingers shook from the very desire to hex the little wretch.

"Rowle! Put the child down…now." Theodore Nott stomped from the Floo with fire in his eyes. "What the fuck have you done?" Theo hissed, keeping his wand trained on the larger wizard as he listened for sounds of others.

"I'm wrecking havoc. It's what I do best you traitor. Tell me, was it difficult consoling the Mudblood with your bint wrapped around you?" Thorfinn dropped the toddler to the floor and Nova kicked his shin before running off.

"What are you doing? What are you really doing? So what if Malfoy's little witch reduced you to a bumbling idiot with a Memory Charm? Nothing is going to bring back Voldemort, and I for one, say thank fuck for that. You've burned her building to the ground and nearly killed children. Is that what we've become? Murderers of children? You nearly killed Megan! Your sister is beside herself and here, the child in question, is perfectly fine. What the hell is wrong with you?!" Theo's magic crackled and a purple light struck the hulking wizard in the chest, knocking him off his feet.

Rowle shouted, growling even, as he rolled to his hands and knees with sweat on his brow. He lurched to his feet, yet before he was even upright, spells were being cast. Theo dove behind the sofa, quickly casting a Shield Charm in order to remain in one piece.

"You ungrateful little bastard! I took you in. I raised you up to greatness! If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even have your fat little bitch…"

"Crucio!" Theo's eyes widened in horror as the Unforgivable escaped his lips, though silently pleased to watch Thorfinn Rowle writhing on the floor in a silent scream.

Theo's concentration was waning due to Nova's sniffling sort of sobs in the corner. Vaguely he wondered if he'd be able to snatch the girl before Rowle regained his footing. He twisted his wand, his breaths deep and heavy, his ears ringing with the exertion and then he stopped. Thorfinn laid upon the floor, still, except for the increasingly slow rise of his chest. Theo didn't waste a moment, he knew Rowle and knew him well. The gigantic wizard was biding his time and Theo wasn't apt to give him much.

He rushed toward the corner and scooped up the toddler. Nova shrieked, instantly pulling his hair, but Theo kept a tight hold on her. He knew the wards were strong and as he'd have to bypass Rowle to Floo, Theo didn't even attempt to Apparate. Instead, he flung open the back door to the hovel and ran for all he was worth.

"YOU'RE A DEAD MAN, NOTT! A DEAD MAN!"

* * *

Harry Potter wished he were still drunk. In fact, he wished he had never left the pub in the first place. It was hard to believe it had been just shy of a month since Harry had gotten completely pissed with Draco Malfoy. He groaned, slapping his hand on his desk and then shoved all the parchment to the floor.

The Wizengamot was absolutely refusing to release Draco Malfoy. Draco, was being the ridiculously stubborn bastard he always was, and refused to Demonstrate for them. Sure, they had heard the rumours of Draco's heritage, but they wanted definitive proof. The words of the Minister for Magic apparently meant nothing to them and quite frankly, Harry believed they just wanted a bit of a show.

Hermione had been on the warpath, which wasn't helping matters any, but Harry wasn't about to tell her to calm down. He made that mistake once and it ended badly for him. Instinctively, he scratched his arse with a shudder. She definitely wasn't the sort of witch to trifle with, but it had never stopped him from trying.

"Have you found him yet?" Raven Foster wasn't the sort of witch to mince words. Normally, Harry appreciated her candor, but at the moment, he was nursing a particularly horrid headache and hadn't the patience for her antics.

"The answer is the same as it was yesterday, Raven." Harry sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and waited for her to shout at him. It seemed to be her favourite pastime these days.

"Hermione says the Investigators have discovered his residence. It's empty, but there's proof he had a small child with him. That's something, I suppose." Without being invited, Raven sat across from Harry, studying the peculiar scar on his forehead.

"Why aren't you shouting at me?" Harry reached down into the bottom drawer and withdrew a Headache Tonic, keeping a wary green eye on the intimidating witch.

Raven Rowle Foster rolled her eyed and plucked the sleeves of her mauve robes. Frankly, she tired of spending her time with a gaggle of Weasleys and often sought escape by harassing Harry Potter. It had been amusing in the beginning, but the longer they went without finding a trace of her brother and Nova, the harder it became. She didn't hate the Weasleys, in fact, she envied them and her heart hurt, which only reminded her of Nova.

"Hermione's ill. She refuses to admit it of course and is staunchly refusing aid from anyone. She really is quite stubborn. I'm surprised she hasn't marched straight into the Ministry and demanded Draco's release." Raven inspected her long fingernails, feigning disinterest, when fact of the matter was, she was actually quite concerned for the Veela mate.

"She tried that actually. The Minister for Magic himself had to restrain her. It wasn't a pretty sight." Harry's grimaced at the bitter taste of the Tonic and wiped his mouth hastily.

"You're Harry Potter and an Auror, I'd think you'd have a bit of pull in matters of bureaucracy. If anyone could get Draco Malfoy released, it would be Hermione." There seemed to be quite the commotion in the corridor, but Harry didn't seem the least bit concerned, therefore Raven ignored it as well.

"The Wizengamot is not impressed with scar-headed saviours. They're more interested in studying Veela and since Malfoy refuses to Demonstrate, we're at an impasse."

"They only wish him to Demonstrate and prove he's Veela? You're so stupid. I can't believe this." Raven leapt to her feet and slammed her palms onto his desk, her eyes wide with flashing anger.

"I'm really quite tired of hearing how stupid I am. Do you think you're the first to tell me? I have been friends with Hermione Granger since we were eleven after all." Harry reclined in his delightfully cushioned chair and propped his arms behind his head, offering a lazy grin.

"You need to Petition the Wizengamot for Hermione. They'll scoff at you, of course they will, but Draco is Veela. It is not as if he's Apolline Delacour either, he's young Veela. He can't simply Demonstrate on command. He needs a reason and what better reason then his mate? I can't believe you haven't realised this. I can't believe Hermione hasn't either. Merlin, you're practically useless." Raven Foster's tinkling laughter normally would have irked him, but the witch did have a point. "Don't look at me like that. Did you honestly believe Hermione Granger was the only witch capable of research? I wouldn't expect those dodgy old wizards to crack a book, but even so…"

There was quite the scuffle in the corridor, slamming into the walls no less and Harry finally frowned at the behaviours. Carefully, with his wand drawn, he stepped around his desk, and made his way toward the heavy door. He pushed Raven behind him and as his fingers closed around the handle, the door splintered, crashing open and knocked Harry into the corner of his desk. He retained hold of his wand, despite the throbbing on his hip and trained it on the collection of wrestling wizards in his doorjamb.

"Impedimenta!" Harry shouted, giving him only a few seconds of reprieve, but long enough to spy the cause of the trouble. "Halt! You lot there will cease and desist immediately!"

"Mr. Potter, you don't understand…" One of the Junior Aurors struggled to keep hold of the thin gangly man at the center of things.

"I don't care. As your superior, I demand you release him." Harry glowered and even shoved the poor bloke as he now stood alone. The other Junior Aurors had quickly stopped their attempts in the face of the greatly esteemed Harry Potter as none of them wished to be on his bad side.

"Potter, thank Merlin." Theodore Nott dropped to his knees, his face badly bruised and battered, his fingernails torn and even his clothes askew. "I tried to tell them, but they attacked me."

Harry's mouth gaped open for a moment before he slammed his teeth back together with an audible click. The last person he was expecting to see was Theo Nott. It seemed the wizard was a little worse for wear, though he hadn't fought the Aurors despite their abuses.

"Why have you beaten him?" Harry pointed his wand, not at the prone wizard on the ground, but the Junior Aurors glowering down at their 'prisoner'.

The largest of the group puffed out his chest and stepped forward. Harry knew from the wizard's furrowed brow and set of his jaw, he wasn't the amicable type. Lazily, with a non-verbal spell, Harry was holding the Junior Auror's wand. He smirked, waiting for the man to lose his temper.

"This here…wizard…" The man spat, his ruddy face reddening significantly, "burst into the Ministry shouting for the Minister. As if the Minister for Magic hasn't better things to do than waste his time with a fucking Death Eater."

"I take issue with being called a Death Eater." Theo quipped from the floor, groaning as a heavy boot was thrust into his chest.

Harry Potter did the exact thing he never thought he'd do. He drew his wand against his team of Aurors. It was ridiculously easy to disarm the small group and Harry made note to teach them better defenses, but as it was, he was quite pleased with himself.

"You can't do that!" The burly one, whose name Harry couldn't be bothered to recall clenched his fist in a manner that was supposed to be quite menacing. However, considering Harry was holding no less than five wands in his hand, it had little effect.

"Yes, yes I can, I'm Harry Potter." Raven rolled her eyes, but even she had to admit it was fairly amusing to see him smirk and wiggle his eyebrows.

"I'll…inform the Minister." The Junior Auror was suddenly very sure of himself as the others gathered behind him slowly.

"Oh yes, go on then. Be sure to remind him he promised Luna he'd come for tea on Sunday yeah?" Harry crossed his arms, his fistful of wands mocking his subordinates until their eyes lowered to the ground. "Alright then. First, when someone enters the Ministry shouting for the Minister, there's normally a good reason for that. In fact, once upon a time, it was me shouting, and Voldemort doing the chasing. Next time listen. Second, we don't beat suspected Death Eaters. We escort them to a secure office and consult with our superiors. Now, would one of you care to escort Mr. Nott into my office and send for a Mediwizard? It's obvious you lot require further training and your listening skills are subpar as well, considering I'm sure this was covered before you were ever released from your Training Wizards." Harry Potter tapped his foot expectantly and it was the shy witch in the back who managed to heft gangly Theo Nott to his feet.

Theo coughed, spitting a fair amount of blood onto the floor and Harry frowned. He knew it was Hanson, the burly Junior Auror who had done most of the damage. Harry knew the man wasn't cut out for the job as he'd rather resort to violence and knew he'd have to reassign him or fire him.

"You can't be serious. You expect me to believe we just cater to Death Eaters? What has the Ministry come too? You fought in the War…" Hanson growled, his thick dark hair matted to his corded neck.

"Yes, I did and I know better than anyone that just because someone chose a side in the War doesn't mean they're a bad person. They fought for what they believed just as I did and I have to respect that even if I don't respect their choices. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and now he's engaged to the brightest witch of the age. Theo Nott became a Death Eater because his only other option is death. Yes Hanson, we all know you're so fucking noble you'd choose death rather than fight for the Dark Arts, but it's easy to say when you've never been forced to make such choices. I'm going to recommend to Minister Shacklebolt that you return to Auror Training. Perhaps you'd do well to receive a bit of Sensitivity Training as well, considering you're obviously lacking. Dismissed." Harry Potter gestured for Raven to enter his office and followed quickly behind her, slamming the door in the furious wizard's face.

Theo Nott coughed, his chest spasming, his arms wrapped desperately tight around his midriff. Raven patted his back, unsure what to do for the man and looked to Harry for assistance. As for Harry, he sighed, yet opened a drawer of his desk, and removed an amber bottle.

"It's a Pain Potion, it should take the edge off until the Mediwizard arrives." Theo attempted to take the bottle, but his ribs throbbed so furiously whenever he tried to move his arms, the stabbing pain caused another coughing fit. Harry squatted beside him and carefully tipped the bottle back, for which Theo was eternally grateful.

"I'm going to pass out." Theo gasped, his stringy hair clinging to his sweat soaked forehead, "I've got to tell you…the girl…I got her…" Theo's head fell forward and Harry's mouth was suddenly dry.

"Nova? You've got Nova? Where is she?!" Raven practically shouted in the poor wizard's face, the corners of her eyes damp with unshed tears.

"Gr-Granger." Theo spat before sliding into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy hovered, which definitely was in her nature, but she couldn't help it. She'd tried to stay away, but she needed something to fill her days. As it was Lucius was busy snarling and avoiding her due to the errant children and their son's incarceration, therefore her only course of action was to hover over her soon to be daughter-in-law.

"You're doing it again." Hermione snarled, slamming another impressively large tome onto the shiny oak desk of Lucius Malfoy's study.

"You're looking a bit pale. Would you care for some peppermint tea? It's been known to settle the stomach." Narcissa ignored Hermione's irritation in favour of presenting a silver platter laden with tea service.

"I know what you're doing." Hermione pushed her messy curls off her face and resigned herself to the idea of tea with Narcissa Malfoy…again.

"What is that dear? With Draco currently…away, you need someone to look after you. You've been so busy studying those Wizengamot laws you've neglected yourself. In fact, even the elves have been whispering about you."

Narcissa's prim smile didn't fool Hermione in the least. She was more than aware of the carefully concealed glances and whispers whenever she managed to vacate the study. She wondered how they expected her to simply carry on as if Draco wasn't ensconced in Azkaban, as if he weren't being treated like a common criminal. It was against her nature to accept such things.

"You're trying to distract me. I know Apolline was less than helpful when it came to the ways of the Wizengamot, but I still believe if she had spoken to them…"

"My dear, Veela do not Demonstrate upon request. Of course, I suppose we are capable with time, but we are not animals to be subjected to ridiculous antiquated laws." Narcissa carefully poured a cup of peppermint tea, sweetening it with a sugar cube just the way she knew Hermione preferred and waited.

Hermione nodded slowly and absently sipped from the delicate china. Her body revolted against the sugar and suddenly Lucius Malfoy's revered mahogany desk was covered in a fine film of tepid tea. Under ordinary circumstances, Narcissa would have been enraged, but this was expected. She pursed her lips and waved her wand, instantly cleaning the mess and poured another cup of tea, with the slightest trace of honey instead.

"Godric, I'm so…I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me. This seems to be happening at the strangest times. It's really quite irritating." Hermione covered her mouth, her cheeks bright pink with embarrassment.

"It's my fault, my dear. It was simply a little test. You'll want to take your tea with honey, rather than sugar. No, don't ask me why, just trust me." Hermione opened her mouth to object, as was her nature, but the roar of the Floo interrupted such things.

A filthy and distraught Theodore Nott tumbled into the study, desperately clutching a tearstained, rumpled toddler.

"Gr-Granger…take her." Theo gasped, his arms shaking from the exertion of carrying the child.

Hermione rushed forward, catching the child before Theo's arms gave out. Narcissa eased the wizard into one of the many chairs decorating the wall, keeping a steady hand on his shoulder. Theo wiped his grimy face with his palm and stared at the reunion between Nova and Hermione.

"Mummy." Nova sobbed, her chubby arms tightening around Hermione's throat.

"You're alright. I can't believe it. You're here. Oh my gods." Hermione swung to and fro, patting the toddler's bottom and squeezing her tightly. "Theo, how did you…how can I ever…"

"Don't Granger. Don't thank me. I had to do it. I had to do it for Megan. She'd never forgive me if I hadn't and I need her." Theo coughed as the firewhiskey Narcissa had poured, burned its way down his esophagus. "She knows what I've done and that I've tricked her and she hasn't left me yet. I'd like to keep it that way. I can't stay. I've got to go to the Ministry and inform them of Rowle's whereabouts. Can't have that bastard running about." Theo nodded, tipping his imaginary hat and stepped through the Floo.

Narcissa carefully approached an emotional Hermione and attempted to remove the filthy toddler from her arms. Hermione refused to relent, whispering against the child's damp cheek. Nova was stubbornly refusing to unwind her arms and Narcissa sighed heavily in defeat.

"Hermione, we really must bathe her. I'm sure the Manor will be filled with Ministry Officials posthaste. It would be uncouth to present the child in her current state." Narcissa appealed to Hermione's sense of logic, knowing it was the only way to reach her.

"Yes, you're right, of course you are." She brushed a few remaining tears off her cheek and hefted Nova onto her hip.

Hermione slowly walked toward the washroom as reality crashed down around her. She couldn't keep Nova. Nova had family and it didn't matter how much Hermione loved the girl, she'd have to say goodbye. The idea of watching Nova leave her life set her into another bout of crying fits, completely exasperating Narcissa.

"This behaviour is most definitely not befitting of a Malfoy. You act as though the poor girl is being sent to the gallows. Come now, Ms. Granger, Nova has family and that is a blessing." Narcissa clapped her hands and a pair of house elves began to run water for the child's bath.

Hermione struggled with her emotions, but in the end, she carefully set the sniffling child onto her bare feet. With trembling fingers, she removed Nova's filthy little dress and cooed softly before helping her into the bubble bath. After that, it was a simple matter of washing Nova's hair, which she fought every step of the way, and then scrubbing her body clean.

"There, aren't you a pretty little girl? I bet that feels better, doesn't it?" Hermione prattled to herself while she dried Nova with a fluffy pink towel, beneath Narcissa's supervision.

"You shouldn't lift her, let the elves do it." Narcissa hurried over and plucked the child from Hermione causing the brunette witch to huff angrily.

"I'm not completely inept you realise. I do know how to bathe a child." Hermione's mouth snapped shut upon hearing the reverberating clatter of heavy shoes stomping up the stairs.

"CISSA! THERE'S A POTTER IN THE MANOR!"

"Oh for Salazar's sake, you'd think he'd spotted Voldemort." Narcissa rolled her blue eyes skyward and yanked open the washroom door with fire in her eyes.

Lucius Malfoy's long blond hair flowed out behind him as he hurried up the long winding staircase, with Harry Potter and Raven Foster on his heels. The raven haired beauty choked, sliding to a stop, her hands flying up to cover her gaping mouth. She blinked her sooty lashes, staring hard at the damp haired blonde child nestled in Narcissa Malfoy's arms.

Hermione wanted to rush forward and snatch the girl away, but she didn't. She refused to allow her feet to move, knowing in the end, this was for the best. She was unable to tear her teary gaze from Nova, even as Raven stroked the girl's cheek.

"I thought she was lost to us. I had…I had lost hope. Gods, she looks just like her parents. She's so beautiful." Raven Foster broke into stuttered tears, and it was the Malfoy Matriarch who comforted her.

Narcissa eased the towel-clad child into Raven's arms and retreated. She could feel the angst and tension rolling off Hermione in waves, but it was her sorrow that truly fractured her heart. She had spent Draco's entire lifetime affected by his tumultuous emotions, but never had the depth of his feelings threatened to send her to her knees. Narcissa breathed slowly through her slightly flared nostrils and stepped away.

It was necessary, in order for her to regain her bearings. Since losing the ability to feel Draco whenever she wished, it was harder for the older witch to harness her empathy in the face of others. Narcissa swallowed and was soon enclosed in the soothing embrace of her spouse. While Lucius had never been the sort of man to provide physical comfort, he could see the situation was wearing on her. He held her close, anxious to have the Manor free of Potters and whatever mayhem happened to follow him.

"Hermione! You've got to come with me." Harry had the finesse of a Hippogriff in an apothecary, and pushed passed Raven cuddling with Nova, and even the Malfoys, in order to reach her. "You lot can come too, we've got to leave now though."

Hermione rubbed her hands up and down her arms, tempting them with warmth in order to regain feeling. She sniffed, annoyed with her constantly running nose and waited. She knew there was more to Harry's story than a simple 'come with me', but as always, he skipped the important bits.

"You're not moving. Why aren't you moving?" Harry tugged on Hermione's forearm, flinching before realising Draco Malfoy wasn't present to tear him to pieces.

"Information, Harry. If you think I'm just going to run off with you without having a speck of information, especially the way I'm feeling…" Hermione rubbed her eyes and Harry could see the exhaustion in her stance. While he was feeling incredibly impatient, he knew she had a point.

Lucius gently pulled away from his wife, intent upon searching her shining blue eyes, but she avoided his gaze. Narcissa had never been able to properly lie to her husband and she wasn't about to begin now. Her fingertips lightly stroked his cheek, her eyes finally meeting his with promises of later, and Lucius relaxed slightly.

"Hermione, it's the Wizengamot. Well, it was Raven's idea really, we'd been so busy trying to find a legality to have Malfoy released we didn't even consider this. It's so bloody simple, ow! Hermione, don't hit me." Harry retreated, safely out of arm's reach from a bristling Hermione and continued hurriedly. "We should have just brought you. They refuse to release him until he Demonstrates, and he refuses to Demonstrate. If he sees you and I don't know, I haven't thought that far ahead…" Harry scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Ms. Granger, how you ever managed to survive is beyond me. Personally, I would have murdered Harry Potter and taken my chances with Voldemort." Hermione felt inexplicably drawn to Raven Foster, in a moment of solidarity and offered a small, tight, smile. "Regardless, what he's saying is, Harry plans on escorting you before the Wizengamot and that should enrage Draco Malfoy to the point of Demonstration, therefore earning his freedom. Harry has already petitioned the Ministry for an audience and they've agreed surprisingly fast. You've less than an hour." Raven Foster spoke in a delightful little singsong sort of voice, for Nova's sake while she dressed her in a frilly pink little dress. "You've got to leave if you have any hope of bringing him home."

Hermione contemplated the lapsed witch's words carefully. Her first reaction was anger, and Harry was thankful he had stepped away from her, as Hermione's hand tightened into a fist. The silence grew and Harry knew the logical portion of Hermione's brain was apt to agree with the assessment, despite her reservations.

"Alright, I'll agree to this on one condition." Hermione's voice was low and even, causing Harry to sigh. Nothing was ever easy where Hermione was concerned, but her next words shocked him. "I'd like to say goodbye." She whispered, her deep brown eyes settling on Nova with a sense of longing. Raven nodded ever so slowly and offered the pretty blonde girl in silence.

Hermione managed to curb the sob lodged in her throat upon Nova's heartbreakingly happy smile. Nova babbled, patting Hermione's cheeks and kissing her with open mouthed, yet slobbery kisses. Hermione smoothed Nova's spiral curls with a shaky hand and kissed her brow.

"Nova, darling. You see this pretty woman?" Nova's head swiveled and she smiled and waved at Raven with a toothy smile. "Yes, that's right. She's going to be your new mummy. I want you to be a good girl for her. She's going to love you so very much." Hermione choked on her last words and hastily handed Nova back to Raven. "I can't…just, be good to her." Hermione grasped Harry's arm and dragged him from the stifling washroom without a backward glance.

Harry remained silent, knowing her heart was breaking into a million shards. He imagined being forced to relinquish Luna and their unborn child. His green eyes filled with tears for something he vowed would never happen as he led Hermione into the Floo.

When they stepped into the atrium of the Ministry, Hermione huddled against him. Harry blinked, sure his eyes were playing tricks on him and stared at the influx of witches and wizards hurrying toward the lifts. It seemed the news had travelled fast and many were whispering about the presence of a Veela in their midst.

"Bollocks, Harry. Dammit Hermione, I'm adult! If I wish to use coarse language than I bloody well…shit!" Ron Weasley bobbed and weaved as the angry arm veered toward his head and wound up cowering behind Pansy Parkinson.

"He's never going to change, I don't know why you bother. We've arrived to show support. Solidarity and all that Gryffindor nonsense. I reckon Ginny and Cormac are somewhere and Merlin only knows where Megan has wandered off too. She's been in a right state since Theo disappeared and…" Pansy's shrewd eyes narrowed as her gaze flicked between Harry and Hermione. "You know something. Spill it."

Harry cleared his throat, spying a severely disgruntled Hanson across the corridor. He was pleased to see the Minister towering over him, hissing angrily with wide gestures. Harry managed to contain himself, offering only a small smirk and a slight shrug when the bulky wizard caught Harry's eye.

"Oh yeah, uhm, Theo rescued Nova from Rowle. I'm going to assume he's still being questioned. Hanson roughed him up a bit, but I wouldn't worry too much, the Minister has a handle on it."

Pansy waved her hand in relief, her hideous engagement ring glinting in the low light. Several witches cringed away from the shine, but Ron was completely oblivious. Hermione knew Ron was quite pleased with his purchase, but honestly, it was the ugliest ring she'd ever laid eyes on, not that she would ever utter such a thing.

"Good. I'm sick of seeing bloody cry about it. She's absolutely ridiculous. He's not even good looking. I mean, I know he tricked her and all of that nonsense, but even so, she chose to stay. Her choice in men is absolutely revolting." Pansy grimaced and Hermione had to laugh. Only Pansy would be caught up in such trivial matters, moments before they were to venture before the Wizengamot. "Why is she laughing? I don't think it's funny at all. Is she ill? She looks horrid. We'd best hurry, we're going to be late. I don't think the Wizengamot would like that at all." With a flounce to her step, Pansy Parkinson dragged a most willing Ron Weasley toward the lifts, her emerald robes glittering in the waning light.

Harry guided Hermione into the lift, holding her hand to keep her steady. From the furtive glances and whispers, the gossipmongers were well on their way, and he sighed. It seemed his life would always be splashed upon the pages of the Daily Prophet, but today wasn't about him. It was about Draco Malfoy's freedom.

Hermione clung to Harry as they trailed behind Ron and Pansy, stepping into the large room already filled to the brim with witches and wizards. Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt commanded their attention with a loud, booming voice, directing everyone to take their seats. The whispers slowly died out as they realised the greatly esteemed Harry Potter was situated just behind the Minister, with none other than Hermione Granger on his arm.

"If it pleases the Wizengamot, as Minister for Magic, I request we bring forth the prisoner, Draco Malfoy."

The silence in the air was deafening as the clang of chains made its way into the Wizengamot chamber. The heavy doors opened and Hermione gasped upon finally laying eyes upon Draco. Harry held her tightly in place, his fingers straining with the effort.

The Azkaban guards were not remotely brutal, which eased the collective anxiety some, but it didn't change the fact he looked absolutely dreadful. His normally pristine blond hair was caked to his head, his pale face streaked with lines of gray and he shuffled forward with his eyes glued to the ground…until he inhaled.

Draco Malfoy's nostrils flared, his sunken grey eyes immediately discerning his mate's direction. His cheeks puffed, the blood rushing to his head, giving him a pink sheen. His curled fingers dug into the wrists confined with iron shackles. Instinctively, he snarled at Harry, barely able to recognise the wizard as his grey eyes seguing into the deepest obsidian black.

The assembly of Wizengamot members leaned forward in their seats, bracing themselves for the transformation. It was something they had all been taught, had learned about extensively, but had become almost a myth. It seemed their ancestors' deepest desires were moments from coming to fruition and they took a collective breath.

Hermione Granger wrenched herself free from Harry's suffocating embrace and pushed the Minister for Magic to the side, in a desperate effort to reach Draco. Kingsley Shacklebolt managed to grasp her shoulders as Draco lunged forward, his fangs elongating as his growls grew to crescendo.

"I do believe it's quite enough!" Kingsley shouted in desperation, directing his words toward an oblivious Wizengamot who ignored his pleas.

And then…all hell broke loose.


	21. Of Pinks & Blues

**AN: Ok. Here's the deal. I'm tired of reading this chapter so if there are errors...they can just stay. I'm over it. Also? For the love of God, don't ask me how many chapters are left. This is a WIP. It is what it is. It will be finished when it's finished. There will be as many chapters as there needs to be, to tie everything up with a pretty little bow. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it, despite the chapter delays.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Pinks &amp; Blues

* * *

Ginny McLaggen sidled into her new husband's side, her fingers running through the sparse dark blonde curls littering his chest. She kissed his heart while he slept, wondering how she had ever walked away from him. She sighed, turning onto her side, smiling more than a little when his arm protectively encircled her.

Cormac smiled into the sea of red hair brushing across his face and sighed into Ginny's throat. He wasn't normally one to bother with smiling or happiness, but Ginevra Weasley made his heart feel full, and now she was his. His rugged fingers stroked her bare thighs, seeking her familiar warm heat, only to be denied.

"Cormac, we're late. We promised Ron and Pansy we'd meet them at the Ministry."

"We're not going. I won't have you in the vicinity of an angry Veela for the sake of solidarity." Ginny pushed at his arm, but Cormac was much stronger than her. He snickered, easily holding her in place while managing to slide his knee between her tightly clenched thighs.

"I'm not in the mood. I want to go to the Ministry." Ginny growled, ignoring the sudden influx of blood rushing in her veins.

"Liar. Shag first, Ministry after. I'm assuming by that point the Veela will be calmed enough and we'll meet your lot for a lovely afternoon tea." Cormac kissed her shoulder, nudging the apex of her thighs with his knee, knowing it was only a matter of moments before she relented.

Ginny's guttural sigh gurgled in her throat as she allowed her legs to be slowly parted. She knew arguing with him was futile. He would only tie her to the bedpost and smack her bum until she acquiesced. She never minded, but today wasn't a day for play.

"Do you suppose we'll have a girl or a boy?" Cormac suddenly pulled away from his new wife, his brow crinkled in heavy thought.

"I…suppose we'll have whatever we have. Does it matter?" Ginny pouted prettily and Cormac's lip twitched in amusement. He bent to kiss her lightly, their amorous moment ruined with thoughts of children dancing in their heads.

"I'm rather partial to pink." Cormac winked, leering at her bare chest until Ginny blushed.

* * *

Megan Jones had sidled into the shadows since Granger's Foundation for Wayward Witches and Wizards had burned to the ground. From the moment Theo had whisked her away from the rubble, they had barely left his brownstone. She preferred it that way, really.

It wasn't all filled with sordid moments spent nude and splayed upon his sheets. There were moments of tenderness and conversation in front of a crackling fire as the events reared their ugly heads the moment she closed her eyes. Surprisingly, Theo had been patient and kind, murmuring soothing words while he rocked her in his arms.

"_Shhh, don't cry, love. It's alright. I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you, I swear it." Theo soothed her the way he imagined a mother would, even when she smacked his arm._

"_Don't swear." Megan hiccupped against his chest, causing Theo to roll his eyes. She'd picked up too many habits from Hermione Granger for his liking, but there was naught to do about it now. He was completely besotted._

She hummed lightly under her breath while she set the kettle on to boil and the bacon to popping in the pan. Yet another owl pecked at the window, but Megan wasn't in the sort of mood that would have her hurrying to retrieve the scroll tied to it's little leg. She was enjoying her little bubble of happiness, free from the judgements of her friends and family.

"Megs?" Theo's sleepy voice echoed from the bedchamber and Megan smiled sweetly while carefully flipping the bacon and poking the fried potatoes.

"Come and have a bite." Megan easily set the small table in the quaint breakfast nook with chipped china and mismatched cutlery, not bothered by such things.

Theo ambled into the still chilly kitchen with his lounge pants sliding down his hips and an unclad chest. He scratched his head with a great yawn, startled to see she was already done up in a checkered gray and white smock, adorned with a white apron. Her bouncing yellow curls were twisted onto the top of her head, displaying the sinewy lines of her neck.

His fingers had barely graced her cheek before she was rolling her sparkling eyes and handing him a plate overflowing with a hot breakfast. Theo smirked, yet sat just the same, as he had done every morning for almost a month. He did adore a hot breakfast and Megan's ability to provide his favourites only bolstered his affections.

"Are you ever going to give me a proper answer?" Theo calmly sipped his tea, drowning in cream, just the way he liked it, while he perused the lovely little blush on his witch's cheeks.

"Are you ever going to ask me a proper question?" Megan parried, daintily folding a cloth napkin in her lap before spooning a scant amount of sugar into her tea.

"Puppet…"

"You know I hate it when you call me that. I'm not your Puppet any longer Theo. Of course, now I'm bound to you but that's a completely different matter, isn't it?" Megan nibbled the corner of her little buttered toast, a smile on her moist lips.

"It's not as if I can take it back, love. It's an Unbreakable Vow. I haven't utilised the magicks and if I'm not mistaken your mark has faded. If you truly wished to leave me, you could. I wouldn't stop you, even if I could." Theo poked his crispy potatoes, scooping a forkful into his mouth with a big of fried egg.

Megan nodded thoughtfully, considering his words with care while she carefully chewed a thick slab of peppered bacon. The rising sun filtered through the small window to her right and she caught a glint of gold as it flashed into her eye. She shoved her purple spectacles up the bridge of her nose with narrowed eyes, pretending she didn't just catch a glance of gold dangling from Theo's neck.

"What do you propose then?"

"Aw Megs, I'm not going to wax poetic like some Huf…er, bloody hell, I'm not the sort of bloke to…what I mean to say is…" Theo dropped his knife with a clatter and hastily grasped Megan's empty hand. "I should have gone about this differently, but I didn't. I shouldn't have tricked you, but I did. I most definitely shouldn't have fallen in with Rowle, but I can't change any of that. I don't…want to lose you because of all that mess. I'd rather you'd just agree to marry me. Dammit Megan, I care about you alright?" Theo yanked the thin gold strand from his neck and turned Megan's hand until her palm was facing upward. He carelessly dropped a thin gold band into her hand, distraught with his inability to properly formulate his affections.

Megan plucked the ring from her palm and studied the conservative gem in the center, deciding she quite liked the amethyst. It suited her more than she thought possible, wondering what her father would think. It was simple, and obviously a family heirloom, but he'd be more concerned with opulence, as was his way.

"Do you love me?" Megan inquired of Theo quietly, her breakfast completely abandoned.

"Fuck yes, marry me witch." Theo knocked the plates to the floor and grasped her face with both hands, mashing their lips together in desperation.

It wasn't long after that he was finally granting entry to the angry little tawny owl, trepidation rearing its ugly head. Theo recognised the hastily scrawled words of Rowle before ever reaching the signature and groaned. He was desperate to find a way out of the web he had weaved and turned to Megan with wary eyes.

"It's him isn't it?" Megan waved a damp tea towel, gesturing toward the parchment in his fist.

"He's got the girl." Theo slumped over the sink basin, his bare shoulder brushing the cap sleeve of Megan's smock.

"You've got to report him to the Ministry…" She dropped the tea towel onto the stone and touched his back, kissing the strained muscle in his shoulder with warm parted lips.

"No. I've got to do better than that. I know Rowle. He might be a bastard, but he's got an uncanny instinct where the Ministry is concerned. He'll know they're coming before they've even set off. He's got the girl, Megan. We were there, we saw Granger lose her bloody mind." Theo set Megan on the counter, surprising her.

Megan knew he was going to leave. She knew his undeniable guilt would force his hand. She knew exactly what he was going to say before he dropped his forehead to hers. Megan allowed him to peck her lips, softly drawing her to him. She melted into his chest, knowing it was his way. Theo wasn't the sort of wizard to spout words of love, he allowed his actions to speak volumes.

"You're going to get her." Megan gasped against his parted lips, her legs locked around his waist and Theo nodded.

"Go to Pansy's. She'll look after you. I'll be back love, I swear it." Theo forced her arms from around his neck and stepped out of her tight embrace.

"Don't swear." Megan whispered, slipping the thin gold band onto her finger with a low, shivered sigh.

* * *

Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the ever impressive towering wizard, despised walking the corridors of Azkaban. The lack of Dementors did absolutely nothing to make the hulking bit of rock inviting. It was dark, dreary, and downright depressing, but for Hermione Granger he'd make an effort.

He shivered against the chill in the air while he allowed one of the tubby, grimy guards to escort him to the darkened cell in the back corner. The wizard's institution gray robes dragged on the ground, despite his burgeoning stomach and Kingsley wondered how much the poor man was paid.

It was eerily quiet compared to the last time he had walked the halls and while the accommodations were better, it was still not the sort of place one wished to remain. Kingsley drew his cobalt blue robes closer to his large body, attempting to stem the chill seeping into his bones.

"He's in the last one there. I'd rather not go with you, if you don't mind, Minister." The guard scratched the red stubble on his chin, his beady brown eyes hesitantly meeting the Minister's.

"I'm sure I'll be fine." Kingsley ventured into the darkest section of the corridor with a heavy sigh.

He squinted, searching the last cell for its prisoner in the darkness. Based on the reports he had received from Azkban, Draco Malfoy wasn't the worst prisoner they'd ever had, but he was less than cordial. He refused to eat nary a morsel and drank only when faced with punishment.

"I told you to stop coming here." Draco rasped, huddled in the corner while casting the Minister a wary eye.

"Mr. Malfoy…" Kingsley wasn't against pleading at this point. The number of owls he received on a daily basis clamoring for either Draco's condemnation or release was wearing on his frayed nerves. "The Wizengamot is more than willing to convict you. They have a tendency to be particularly scathing when it comes to murder these days, I'm sure you can understand."

Draco Malfoy offered nothing more than a grunt, his eyes closing as he silently willed the Minister to leave. Seeing the shiny black face of the Minister only reminded him of _her_ in a strange way he was still unable to fathom. He had spent many hours touring Hermione's mind and knew of their close-knit relationship, developed during the War.

It had been easy to allow the furious batch of Aurors to drag him away from Daphne's crumpled form. The overwhelming guilt at his actions caused him to shed to Veela form before they'd ever arrived. Draco remembered hearing Harry Potter shouting, but he had only slumped forward, not even bothering to shield his head from the angry blows.

Draco supposed some of those Aurors had waited a lifetime to bring a Malfoy to his knees. He wasn't about to aid in their joy by struggling against them. He remembered Harry's green eyes as he was led into his cell in Azkaban and the silent promise. Draco knew the constant thorn in his side would find a way to gain his freedom, for it would be a cold day in Muggle hell before he Demonstrated for that lot.

"Go away." Draco hissed, quickly burying his head in his folded arms.

"I can't keep her away forever, Mr. Malfoy. I expect a few more days at most before she petitions the…" An absolutely terrifying Patronus raced toward Kingsley, causing the burly wizard to retreat from its approach. The raging bull, snorted and the Minister swore puffs of smoke escaped its flared nostrils.

"_The Wizengamot by power of the Chief Warlock has accepted the Petition of one Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Present the Azkaban prisoner DM713. Half past four."_

"Did you really expect the brightest witch of the age to do absolutely nothing?" Kingsley signaled for the guard furtively observing him and sighed.

Draco Malfoy growled low and deep, causing the Minister to wonder if the Wizengamot knew what they had done. He doubted it, as they were often spontaneous and later regretted their actions. Kingsley hoped against hope Hermione and Harry knew what they doing as he did not wish to be on the receiving end of an angry Veela.

He cast one last glance over his shoulder, and followed the guard toward the exit. Kingsley wondered if he would be permitted to escort Draco. While there was no love lost between him and the wizarding high court, Kingsley didn't enjoy the idea of watching their body parts splatter about.

"Hem hem." Kingsley bristled, snorting in barely concealed derision as the prisoner called to him. He smothered a laugh when he was face to face with none other than Dolores Umbridge. How she had managed to convince the guards to provide her with pink prisoner garb was a question for the ages. "Minister, I see we're housed with a suspected Veela. Surely the greatly esteemed Wizengamot wishes to provide better quarters for their more reputable guests." Dolores sniffed, haughtily daring him to refute her words.

"Oh absolutely, Ms. Umbridge. I've personally seen to the transport of one Draco Malfoy, Veela. It is absolutely unseemly to have him surrounded with the likes of you." Minister Shacklebolt tipped his square hat, adjusted the black tassel, and vacated the premises with a wide smile on his thick lips.

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle crashed through the forest, his fingernails ragged and bleeding. He could hear the shouts behind him and pushed on, despite his fatigue. His blond hair was streaked with red, his cheeks scratched from the whip of branches and his clothes were bearing the brunt of his escape.

He hadn't thought Theodore Nott had the gumption to actually turn to the Ministry. He knew the boy was floundering in his allegiance, but it hadn't bothered him much. Rowle believed a simple conversation, reminding the boy of the havoc the Malfoys had wrecked would be enough to turn his convictions back to the prize.

"Stupid bitch." Thorfinn grunted, finally resigned to crawling across the sodden leaves, his small eyes concentrating on the hollow of a nearby tree.

He blamed that bloody Hufflepuff witch. He had entertained the idea of bedding her once Theo was through, but my how the tables had turned. Rowle knew when Theo arrived at the flat, it wasn't going to be a simple matter. He shook his head, refusing to admit he had been bested by his protégé.

"You've nowhere to go, Rowle!"

Thorfinn huddled into the muddy hollow of the tree, biding his time. The Aurors were young and all he needed was one of them to falter for a moment. His wand had been destroyed after a particularly bad land. He kept the broken pieces in his pocket, ever optimistic.

He listened carefully, smiling evilly as the gentle steps of a young Auror drew perilously close to his hiding place. He scooped a healthy handful of moist mud into his meaty hands and spread it into his telltale blond hair. He wiped it down his cheeks and even over his partially bare chest. It was easy enough for him to squeeze out of the hollow and as he stretched his large form into a standing position, he held his breath.

It was a gift from Merlin. Rowle smiled widely and almost laughed, but he wasn't home free quite yet. A terribly young, trembling Junior Auror was less than a yard in front of him. He moved with stealth belying his size and soon stood directly behind the poor wizard. Thorfinn scoured the immediate vicinity, and noted the lad's Training Constable was much further away than Ministry standards depicted safe in perilous conditions.

With the greatest of ease, Thorfinn Rowle's thick arms caught the young wizard around the throat. If he had the time, Rowle would have toyed with the boy for a bit, but he didn't have such luxuries. He squeezed, lifting the wizard off the ground without breaking a sweat. The Junior Auror struggled, but it was in vane, with a sudden, ferocious twist, the wizard's neck snapped.

Thorfinn carried his county back toward the hollow. He stuffed the Ministry worker into the hollow, after removing the boy's wand. He covered the hollow with leaves and broken branches as an afterthought. Finally, he was unable to contain his glee and let loose a loud barking laugh. He listened to the thunder of feet in the leaves, the stumbles over the branches and the shouts for a moment.

"Jones?! JONES!" Thorfinn snickered, throwing his head back in explosive laughter, and just as the impressive gathering of Aurors descended upon his position, he waved as hexes were bellowed, and Disapparated.

* * *

Draco Malfoy didn't fight the two quivering guards when they entered his cell. In fact, he barely lifted his head to acknowledge their existence. He kept his breaths slow and steady, allowing their hands to clasp the shackles around his wrists and ankles, knowing he could easily burst free of them if he so wished.

"Mr. Malfoy, it's time to go before the Wizengamot." The stockier guard offered a hand and while Draco wasn't the sort of wizard to enjoy grasping hands with another man, he accepted.

His state was weakened by a refusal to eat, but his anger was slowly rising, knowing he would see Hermione soon. The last thing he'd wanted was her involvement, but she'd always been a stubborn witch and had chosen now of all times to finally accept their bond. Draco imagined her strong and proud, voraciously arguing with anyone in her way and it gave him strength.

The walk toward the exit was long, but transport to the Ministry was surprisingly fast considering the distance. Draco was vaguely intrigued, but not enough to actually converse with his captors. The moment they stepped from the lift, he was on edge.

The Azkaban guards did not jostle him or force him to step forward when his feet stopped moving of their own accord. They simply rocked on their heels and waited. Draco hissed, the sound escaping between his teeth and began to move.

He could hear the assembly chatting excitedly and he hated their very existence. His ears picked up the Minister's booming voice and he controlled his breathing as Apolline had instructed him. Draco smelled Hermione long before he saw her and his heart thumped erratically in his chest as they stepped through the heavy doors.

His cheeks puffed with the force of his exhale upon hearing her gasp. His nostril's flared and it was nary a second before he spied her hidden behind the Minister. He dug his fingernails into the soft skin of his wrist before yanking on his manacles. The instinctive growl burst forth from his lips as he caught sight of Harry Potter holding Hermione still.

He watched her wrench free from Harry and move toward him, but his vision blurred. Draco knew the Minister for Magic was her friend, had even attempted to aid his release, but he was no longer in control of his faculties. His sunken grey eyes segued into pools of black with a singular blink and then he was lurching forward.

Draco growled, his fangs gnashing against his gums as his lips were drawn high. He strained against the iron chains, pleased to hear them groan and creak. He watched Kingsley Shacklebolt's lips move and knew words were spoken but it was all drowned out by the subtle thump of heartbeats.

The roaring in his ears was nothing compared to the high-pitched whine of iron being stretched to its limit. Draco Malfoy's skin darkened from its pale Malfoy pallor to the deathly gray of Veela. He crouched, large black eyes passing over the assembly of Wizengamot members without a care. He could hear their purple robes swish as they fought for a better vantage point and hated them with a fiery passion.

Draco glanced at his shackles, tearing them from his wrists with a single swipe, reveling in the sound as they clattered upon the stone. The deep, menacing growl reverberated in the chamber, echoing in the enclosed space. Nary a moment passed before his wings made their appearance, spreading wide and knocking his gailors off their feet.

"Contain him!"  
"This is madness!"  
"He'll kill us all!"  
"Give him the girl you fools!"

Minister Shacklebolt in his terror, had dragged Hermione Granger further away from Draco, which was an error on his part. Harry attempted to intervene while Hermione fought against Kingsley, but he was knocked to the wayside by astronomically strong wings. The Chief Warlock drew his wand, but whatever spell he had shrieked did nothing to abate the Veela.

Draco screeched, his face elongating until it resembled a bird of prey, his focus set upon his mate. Hermione elbowed the Minister for Magic in the gut until his hold loosened and finally stomped on his instep. She climbed over the prone Harry and pushed through the throng of Azkaban guards protecting Kingsley only to be forced back.

Draco flapped his silvery, feathered wings of steel, the tip catching the cheek of the nearest witch. She was flung into the balustrade, her breath forced from her lungs as she sunk into unconsciousness. A brazen old wizard attempted to tackle the furious yet distraught Veela, but he only exacerbated the situation.

Draco spun on his arched gray feet, his fangs dripping with blood from his own lip and snarled. His long arms wrenched the wizard from his back and hurtled him toward the furthest wall. There was a collective gasp upon hearing the wizard's bones crunch from the strength rippling through the Veela's muscled arms.

He leapt onto the axiomatic throne, often reserved for those fielding rapid-fire questions from inquisitive witches and wizards in the Wizengamot assembly. Draco roared, his chest straining with the effort, until the scuffles of attempted escape dulled to a quiet hum. His wings fluttered, spreading wide and nearly traversed the entire chamber in width, but then he curled them, pulling them close to his body as he sought out Hermione among the huddle of witches in the corner.

He sniffed the air delicately, searching through overbearing roses, bergamot, and even lilies until he discerned her. His skin rippled with relief upon spying one of her golden brown curls peeking over the shoulder of a flaming haired Weasley.

"Sorry Hermione, I'm not being eaten by a Malfoy for anyone, not even you." Ron Weasley fell to the floor, dragging Pansy down with him and Hermione rolled her eyes.

She slapped away the numerous hands reaching for her and stepped over Ron, kicking his ribs along the way. Hermione wasn't afraid of Draco in any form, though she had to admit he looked quite feral. He huffed, displeased with the scent of Weasley on her robes and nodding, Hermione dropped her cloak to the floor, baring the special dress she'd worn for the occasion.

Harry had thought her daft for changing her gown, but Hermione had known Draco would be in dire straits the moment they were in the same room. He had barely managed when away from her for a few hours and here it had been weeks. She had carefully perused her wardrobe and selected her dress with the utmost care.

Hermione watched the sparkling pools of midnight lighten to twilight and offered a tentative smile. She saw the way he drank her in and knew her emerald green dress pleased him. The empire waist showcased her ample cleavage, teasingly so against the white lacy scalloped edge. The emerald and diamond choker Narcissa had insisted upon, hid her Bonding Mark from prying eyes and Draco snorted at the personal affront.

He leapt off the ornately carved interrogation chair, ignoring the splintering wood when it crashed to the stone. Hermione took a single step forward and his head tilted, listening carefully. He grunted, a low deep sound, eerily similar to a guttural growl and glided across the stone until he was nearly within range to grasp her into his arms.

Apolline had often spoken of control and he had heard her words, but in certain instances had been unable to comply. This time however, it was an easy matter. He honed in on Hermione's heartbeat, fluttering beneath her breast, intrigued by the rapid butterfly wings dancing just beneath.

He approached her with care, snapping at the witches shrinking from him and the wizards muttering. Hermione closed her eyes, his emotions strumming the tune in her veins. Her pink lips parted as his breath ghosted across her cheek and then she was in his arms.

Draco held her a little too tightly, causing her to squeak and then he was touching her. His elongated fingers stroked over her hair, down her neck and back, inspecting her. She could feel his body shuddering from their contact and knew it would only be a matter of moments before he reverted his form. Hermione felt the chill dissipate and knew his wings had enclosed around her, protecting her from the gaping stares.

He sniffed at her throat, his tongue gently lapping her pulse point. Hermione rested her hands on his paling chest, content to finally feel him in all his glory. Draco's body shivered, and the Wizengamot watched in silence as the furious Veela transformed back into none other than Draco Malfoy. His prisoner garb was worse for the wear and hung in strips down his back, but didn't give a rat's arse if they gazed upon his bare buttocks.

Draco, looking surprisingly healthier, nudged Hermione's chin with his pale fingers until her eyes opened. He smiled softly, stroked her cheek with his forefinger, and kissed her. Hermione clung to him, her emotions finally bubbling to the surface and she whimpered into his mouth. He soothed her with gentle hushes, his hands continuously moving across her back before capturing her willing lips once more. He nibbled her bottom lip, soothing the ragged corner with his tongue.

Hermione threw her arms around his neck, her body finally flush against his. Draco stiffened, his ears attuned to the hyper flutter of furious wings and he listened ever so carefully. He held his breath, gripping her hip almost ferociously. Draco pried her from around his neck, scoffing at her indignant huff and turned her within the circle of his arms.

"What are you…" Hermione thought he would have wanted to hold her for just a bit longer and her feelings were honestly a little hurt.

"Hush." Draco was curt, almost cold.

Hermione shifted, as if to move away from him, but Draco dug into her hip with calloused fingers, his other hand clutching her shoulder. He tugged her into his chest, his breaths hissing through his teeth. The left hand on her hip slid forward until it rested just beneath her navel and applied light pressure. Draco hummed lightly, the sound causing the Wizengamot to flinch and huddle together, far from the Veela and his mate.

"When were you planning on telling me…Granger?" Draco spoke through his teeth, obviously angry, but Hermione only frowned and shook her head.

She could feel his distrust, his angst, his upset just as well as he could feel her confusion and affection. It was difficult to untangle the knotted weave of their combined emotions, but Draco managed. He smiled tightly, though it didn't reach his eyes and sighed heavily.

"Minister, surely you can't suggest we give this…_beast_…its freedom." A dumpy, heavily mustached wizard struggled to his pudgy feet and angrily gestured toward Draco Malfoy.

"The laws of the Wizarding Community, drawn up by the Wizengamot itself, which predates even the Ministry, has decreed Veela are protected beings of magic." Hermione Granger spouted the legal rhetoric without a single bat of an eye when faced with such derision. It allowed Kingsley Shacklebolt ample opportunity to remove the elderly frizzy haired witches from the safety of his hulking form.

"Ms. Granger is quite correct. We have never interfered with Veela and their mates. You wished for Demonstration and now you're displeased with the results, however nowhere does it state we must be happy. We simply must adhere to the law. Mr. Malfoy cannot be detained for the demise of Daphne Greengrass as she facilitated her demise due to her deception." Kingsley's little hat sat askew on his sweating head, but no one made mention of it.

"Minister Shacklebolt, you are aware, just as we all are, Veela protections are only afforded to spouses and considering Ms. Granger is only…his concubine, for lack of a better term, you cannot expect us…"

"Rectify the situation." Draco snarled, gnashing his elongating teeth together.

The dumpy, heavily mustached wizard's jowls danced under his chin while he shuffled away from the trio. He adjusted his purple robes, wiping the large W with fat fingers. His lips remained crammed together and Draco calmed.

"How long has he known Ms. Granger was his mate?" An older witch, with long gray hair called across the assembly room with a strong voice.

"One year, one hundred and eighty two days, give or take." Draco eyed the witch carefully, curious as to her intentions.

"The Ministry is capable of making certain documents retroactive." The witch nodded tightly in the Minister's direction and took her seat without another word.

"We'll have to take a vote." Kingsley offered, under the heavy stare of grey eyes.

Draco nodded and with genteel care, escorted Hermione to the ragtag group of her friends. He nodded toward Harry and ignored Ron completely in favour of listening to the frantic flutter still beneath his hand. His thumb strokes across Hermione's abdomen, his breath hot on the nape of her neck.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron piped up, his arm slung over Pansy's shoulders, with amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

It was the most fun he'd had in ages. He couldn't wait to tell his brothers he watched the Wizengamot shriek like a bunch of little girls. Of course, he'd embellish it a bit, perhaps he'd have one of the dodgy old wizards wetting his robes. Anything was possible and hell, it was his story to tell.

"Malfoy thinks I'm marrying him." Hermione didn't shove Draco's arms from her person, but she frowned heavily, completely conflicted.

"Is that all? Who cares? You're gonna do it eventually anyway. If that's all you've got to do to get him free…" Ron wretched, dry heaving over his brown loafers the minute Pansy's elbow stabbed his solar plexus.

"For once in your fucking Gryffindor life, do as you are told. Do not defy me, not now, not this time." Draco splayed his fingers across her abdomen, his thumb thumping rhythmically on the green satin. Hermione swallowed with difficulty, and tamped down her natural tendency to argue, in order to accept her fate.

The Minister for Magic nervously approached the bickering couple and cleared his throat noisily. While he didn't want to mar his tenuous friendship with Hermione Granger, fear of the Veela Draco Malfoy, overruled all. Kingsley gestured toward the center of the room and Draco nodded shortly, still refusing to relinquish his hold on Hermione.

Harry snickered behind his hand. The sight of Draco Malfoy's pale bare arse cheeks amused him more than it should. Pansy shot him an evil glare and quickly transfigured Draco's shredded prison guard into an astonishingly respectable ensemble.

Draco nodded his appreciation over the top of Hermione's head, adjusting the silver and grey tie. Hermione rolled her eyes, but even she had to admit he looked absolutely dashing. The silver silk shirt offset his eyes, yet the black waistcoat gave him the debonair appearance that always made her a bit weak in the knees.

Hermione didn't understand his upset. She thought he should be thrilled as his release was looming. She had been prepared to refute the Wizengamot's claims, using their own antiquated laws against them. Hermione, being a studious witch, had scoured the legalities voraciously and in the end, it hadn't been necessary.

The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was an exceedingly tall, regal wizard with the pointiest nose Hermione had ever seen. His disapproval oozed from his overly large pores and even his beady hazel eyes screamed judgement. His purple robes swished delicately and his bony fingers graciously accepted the small packet of parchment the Minister presented. His glance over the words was cursory at best and he nodded quickly, his graying brown hair bobbing in its ponytail.

"I'd inquire as to witnesses, but it is obviously unnecessary." The Chief Warlock spun on his heel and returned to his seat of honour amongst his peers.

"Has the Wizengamot reached a verdict?" Kingsley Shacklebolt stood tall and proud, his dark eyes searching the weathered faces for hesitance.

"We have determined it is only proper to release Draco Malfoy. He is absolved in all matters concerning the untimely demise of one Daphne Greengrass, due to his Veela heritage. It has long been the tradition of the Wizarding Community to protect all magical beings. It is only after careful consideration and proof of said heritage that we recognise Hermione Granger as his mate. However, the current law specifies spouse, not mate, and as such, we have deemed it necessary to demand Mr. Malfoy wed Ms. Granger before the Wizengamot. After such, we are willing to consider this matter resolved." The Speaker was an elderly wizard, his voice shook as he delivered the written statement and not once did his watery eyes leave the parchment.

"And the Wizengamot will absolutely consider your marriage retroactive." The same older witch stood and spoke clearly, despite being surrounded by frowns, causing even Draco to crack a small smile. "Therefore it is only proper to wish you Happy Wedding as well as Happy Anniversary." She smiled slightly, staring at Draco a little longer than necessary. Her unique crystal blue eyes locked on curious grey. She blinked and they went pitch black, returning to their unusual shade of blue without hesitation.

"Happy Anniversary?" Hermione whispered into Draco's arm, her head resting near his heart.

"They're going to backdate our marriage one year from today. I don't think they're able to do much more than that. It's fine Granger. October is a lovely month. Come on then, we're to sign the Certificate." Draco gently guided his bride toward the small black table near the door with an easy hand.

Harry, Ron, and Pansy followed, despite not receiving an invitation from the Minister. While it wasn't a traditional sort of ceremony, it was their friend's wedding and they weren't apt to miss it for anything. Harry was curious as the last wedding he'd attended was Bill and Fleur's. He expected there to be some sort of words or an exchange of rings, but there was nothing.

"It's normal for the folks getting married to go to the Ministry before all the parties and such. They sign the Certificate and it gets filed. They're considered married by the Ministry and all that, but it's the parties and ceremonies and all that sort of stuff that really seals the deal for everyone else." Ron whispered loudly, his voice echoing in the chamber as he explained the goings on to Harry.

Draco signed his name with a flourish, inhaling deeply at Hermione's throat. He nipped her earlobe while she signed her name, causing her to falter. His genteel manner was perplexing, and she tried to take it in stride, but Hermione wished he'd allow her to move without being attached to his hip.

The moment the ink was dry on the parchment, Draco was turning Hermione to face him, his hands in constant contact with her body. He grasped her face between his palms and kissed her so gently, there was a collective sigh from the Wizengamot. His cracked, chapped lips danced across her cheek, until finally, his warm breath was against her ear.

"Pink or blue, wife?" Draco's voice was so incredibly light and low, Hermione was nearly certain she had misheard him, until he repeated the question.

"Blue?" Hermione's lips barely parted to utter the word and Draco hummed in approval.

"Hmm yes, I think so as well." Draco hugged her, not nearly as tight as he usually did and released her.

She knew it was only due to the not so subtle coughs and shuffling of her friends and smiled. Mentally, she counted to three and his hands were on her hips, sliding around her waist. Slowly, everything melded together. Hermione recalled the mishaps with the tea, her sluggishness, and the way Draco seemed to only be content with his arms around her waist and his thumb strumming against her abdomen.

"No…" Hermione breathed, more in disbelief than anything else. Instantly, she was berating herself, but a soothing hand from Draco calmed her.

"Just think, love. When our son is grown, I'll have the privilege of informing him, his mother, hailed as the brightest witch of the age…had to be told he even existed." Draco licked her pulse point with fervor, quite anxious to take his new wife home.


	22. Of Brides & Brothels

**AN: Yes. I know. I suck. I suck hard. If it's any consolation...I'm almost done with the next chapter &amp; expect to have it posted in the next few days.**

**Sorry for the horrifically long wait. Hope you enjoy.**

**As always...*kisses***

* * *

Of Brides &amp; Brothels

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was practicing her aim. She growled, grunted, and even hurled the heirloom china platter off the second floor balcony, and hoped it struck one of her husband's precious peacocks. Lucius flinched, listening to yet another priceless antique meet its end, and downed his scotch on the rocks.

"Mother…" Draco whined, his eyes wide as she turned and snarled at him.

His mother's true anger had never been directed at him and Draco felt completely out of sorts. Desperately he turned to his wife, who only scoffed, and handed his mother another a vase. Hermione had discovered quite quickly, it was much easier to aid Narcissa than to argue with her.

She had told Draco it was a terrible idea to inform his mother they had been wed at the Ministry. He hadn't listened, of course he hadn't, stubborn Slytherin that he was, and now his mother was destroying her collection of antiques with black eyes and sharp talons. It amused Hermione to watch her strong, virile, Veela husband cower in the face of his mother, but enough was enough.

"They wouldn't have released him otherwise." Hermione offered lightly as she passed Narcissa an exceedingly heavy, ornately carved, gold embossed mirror.

Draco growled, snatching it from her fingers, his nostrils flaring, and Narcissa paused. Her obsidian eyes lightened considerably, until they were the colour of the sky on a stormy day. Her talons retracted, but remained long and black, even as she tapped her jawline.

"It's enough. You've no right to be angry. We haven't cancelled the festivities. It isn't as if we've broken some long-standing tradition. You'd think you'd rather have your son free. Granger's not to lift anymore of your ridiculous antiques. You bloody well know why. I'm going to the garden to have a drink with Father."

"You can't call me Granger anymore." Hermione called to Draco's back, but he didn't pause while hurrying to the door.

"Can!" He called back, and she could hear the smirk on his damning lips.

"Have you and Draco considered any names for my grandson?" Narcissa smiled sweetly, offering Hermione a cup of tea, laden with honey, definitely not sugar, and gestured toward the settee on the veranda.

Hermione groaned, but pasted a smile on her lips, wishing she were down in the garden with Draco. He felt her displeasure and the warmth of her affection, and smiled up at her from the safety of his lawn chair. It seemed the Malfoy men were not about to allow shards of glass at their feet interfere with their libation.

"At least tell you've considered the gowns I had sent over."

"I didn't even know you had gowns sent over." Hermione reclined upon the settee and dutifully sipped her tea, bored with it all.

"My dear, you're marrying a Malfoy. I knew it was inevitable and took it upon myself to make a careful selection. As luck would have it, delivery coincided with your spontaneous nuptials, to which I was not invited." Narcissa's hand painted china teacup shattered in her fingers, and Hermione flinched, bracing herself for an angry Veela tirade.

"Mother! Behave or I'll have Granger regale with you the history of the ring!" Draco shouted up from the garden, sensing his wife's distress.

Hermione perked up considerably, despite Narcissa's slit eyed glare. It wasn't enough she lived to learn, no, Hermione practically preened when it came to sharing her knowledge. She knew it wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but it had never stopped her before.

"Draco darling, your bride is looking a bit peckish. Might I suggest a hot meal and then home to rest for the remainder of the evening?" Narcissa smiled, a tad maliciously and waved her fingers as Draco whisked Hermione from the Manor, with barely a grunt of goodbye.

"That was quite antisocial of you." Lucius staggered, quickly righting himself with the use of ivory handled cane, and pretended there was never anything amiss.

"Well what did you expect me to do? She wasn't the least bit interested in dress selection, and I am not remotely interested in listening to her blather about the history of a ring I haven't seen since I was born. Ridiculous. Come along Lucius. I'm feeling particularly…carnal." Narcissa smiled knowingly, and Lucius gulped. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle wasn't the least bit distressed when he learned of Daphne's demise. He had happened upon a discarded Daily Prophet while scouring Knockturn Alley, and had merely shrugged. He wouldn't miss her. He never missed anyone.

He had more pressing matters to attend to, than to lament the loss of an adequate shag. He was a wanted wizard. It wasn't new to him, but even so, Rowle didn't enjoy being forced into hiding.

Even the degenerates skulking in the shadows of Knockturn Alley shied away from him. Thorfinn growled at the mangled wizard limping down a narrow alley, just to watch the man cower in fear. He enjoyed instilling fear, even if it was strangers.

His thick fist thumped against a small oak door, ignoring the black knocker. He didn't try the knob, knowing it remained locked at all times. Rowle smiled with menace in his eyes as it creaked open.

"Welcome to The Spiny Serpent. Mr. Rowle, it's been a time." A majestically handsome wizard perused his customer with a critical eye. "You'll require proper attire, of course. Please, step into the backroom."

Rowle towered over the wizard, knowing that despite the other wizard's slick black hair and striking blue eyes, he was nothing more than a wilted toothless wizard. He sniffed the air, attuned to the sounds of witches in distress. Besides the whimpers one makes prior to death, begging witches was his very favourite.

"I'll want three." Thorfinn growled while allowing tongueless witches to wash his filthy body.

"As you wish." The proprietor bowed, vacating the backroom. He shivered while perusing his latest acquisitions, knowing they would be marred if he allowed the Death Eater to sample their wares.

He had travelled far and wide to maintain his collection. Oftentimes he hefted over hundreds of galleons in order to procure the perfect witch. Their families were always pleased with the transactions, barely lamenting the loss of their daughters, which suited him just fine.

Most of his clientele were simple wizards with eclectic tastes, but Thorfinn Rowle enjoyed pain. His girls were used to pain, but Rowle's hulking size frightened them. They didn't mind a bit of light whipping, some were even fond of rope play, but Death Eaters were known for being sadistic.

The highly Glamoured wizard perused his latest acquisitions and sighed heavily. The petite witch cowering in the corner was just Rowle's taste. The monstrous wizard delighted in young, pretty brunettes. He had only acquired her due to her family's grief. It seemed the little one highly favoured her deceased older sister, and they could not bear to look upon her any longer. At least that was the story he told.

"Shame." He shrugged, knowing Rowle would gift him with nearly a thousand galleons in order to be the first, and probably the only wizard to touch the girl. "Tracey, Lisa, take the new girl to the last room on the left, top of the stairs if you will."

The scantily clad witches bowed their heads, knowing it was in their best interest to simply comply. They'd been 'guests' of The Spiny Serpent for long enough to know their places. Despite the end of Voldemort, there was still an unsavory element in the Wizarding World, and their families had been eager to fill their vaults rather than secure their daughter's futures.

"You're Tracey Davis." The small brunette whispered, casting furtive glances over her shoulder as the two witches led her up the stairs laid in red velvet.

"Yes well, names don't mean much here. You'll get used to it. Though, perhaps you won't. Perhaps it will be our last night on earth. It is possible. Jessalyn swear she saw Thorfinn Rowle and you know what he's like." The gangly dishwater blonde shrugged with an apathetic roll of her dark brown eyes.

"I don't understand…"

"Look. You're a slag now. Your parents would rather have enough galleons to line their pockets than put up with the fuss of having a daughter. I'm sure they told you they loved you, and promised you some sort of position in some Witch's School or another, but they lied. You'll be expected to service whomsoever, and you'll be a professional cock handler in no time. Now, go on in there and disrobe." Lisa, the tallest of the bunch, shoved the smaller witch with a snarl on her thin lips.

She hated the younger prettier witches, knowing it was only a matter of time before she was delegated to the decrepit wizards aching for the touch of a woman. Tracey assumed, if she were lucky, she'd last another year before The Wizard put her out of her misery.

"She's a disaster. If we don't fix her, we're going to be punished." Lisa Turpin, former Ravenclaw hissed, mindful of her surroundings.

Astoria avoided the four-poster bed, in favour of scurrying toward the washroom. Lisa immediately filled the soaking tub with scalding hot water, and various floral oils. She sighed in frustration and browsed the small closet for an appropriately alluring outfit for their newest acquisition.

Astoria was in shock. She allowed Tracey to strip her down in complete silence. Her toes curled away from the chill of the tile, and she sniffled. Astoria hadn't cried not once. She had stared in disbelief when the Glamoured wizard had dragged her away from her ancestral home, but she hadn't cried.

She'd been left to her own devices for a few days, and she wasn't certain why The Wizard had such a collection of witches. Astoria had heard the whispers, but had honestly thought they were pitching stories to pass the time. It seemed she had been wrong.

Tracey and Lisa rolled their eyes and pushed Astoria toward the bathing tub. They no longer remembered their first moments in The Spiny Serpent, and that was probably for the best. They chose to leave their former lives behind, otherwise it would only break their hearts instead of just their bodies.

"Why…I mean how…" Astoria stuttered, wincing at the heat of the water, uncomfortable with the silence.

"Our parents were Death Eaters, and unless you're the Malfoys, you don't have never ending vaults of galleons. The Ministry forced then to pay reparations, but our families didn't have enough. They sold us to The Wizard to keep their coffers full." Tracey shrugged and poured an exorbitant amount of shampoo on the younger witch's head.

"You were joking about…the slag part…weren't you?" Astoria sat perfectly still while Lisa scrubbed her scalp and looked to Tracey questioningly.

"Sweetie, we never joke about such things. Why don't you tell us your little story. It's best to get it out while you can. Salazar knows you won't have a chance once Rowle gets through with you." Tracey patted Astoria's shoulder in a seemingly comforting manner, but the younger witch didn't feel the slightest bit better.

She felt betrayed, quite honestly. She also felt violated while these witches didn't seem to notice her discomfort. Astoria imagined her parents and wondered if they thought of her. She hadn't meant to anger them. She was only looking to make amends, but it was an error in judgement that had cost her dearly.

"_I'm sorry Father, I was only trying to make amends. I thought you'd be pleased. I thought you wanted to repair your relationship with the Malfoys…" Astoria Greengrass whimpered beneath her father's murderous rage, covering her head with her petite hands._

"_I don't need the likes of you going to fucking Lucius Malfoy. Just who do you think you are? You see what happens when you give me daughters?!" He shouted at his wife, resisting the urge to beat his last remaining daughter. "Sons would have done me proud. They would have been Death Eaters and revered, but no, you gave me daughters. Daughters who would rather spread their legs for Thorfinn Rowle than secure their future with a reputable Pureblood husband." _

"_Astoria, darling, tell me the happenings." Astoria's mother was a slight woman who was naturally submissive to her overbearing husband._

_She felt never ending guilt for being unable to produce a proper heir, but she loved her daughters. She had grieved deeply upon learning of the passing of her older daughter, and wished to keep her remaining child safe from the ire of her husband. She knew she would probably fail, as she had failed everything, but she couldn't help but to hope._

"_I went to see Narcissa Malfoy. I had intended to speak to Draco and his…witch, but they weren't there. I took tea with Narcissa, and she was kind, but informed me Daphne's errors did not cast a cloud over our family relations. She informed me Draco is to wed and she extended an invitation." Astoria smiled prettily, dutifully waiting for words of praise that never came._

_Instead, her father twisted his hand in her dark hair, knocking her off her feet. He stormed toward the pantry off the kitchen, and shoved her inside. Astoria fell to her knees, disgruntled with her father for soiling her gown, but then the shouts began._

_It wasn't much longer that The Wizard paid her family a visit. How he had been contacted, Astoria didn't know, but she sat dutifully while he looked her over with a critical eye. Her mother had quietly sobbed into her embroidered handkerchief, never voicing her displeasure._

"_I'm sure you understand. After the loss of our older daughter, it's simply too much for my dear, dear wife to look upon her. They favoured each other, you see." Astoria's father greedily eyed the velvet bag tinkling with galleons and licked his lips._

"_You don't mind…do you?" The Wizard's fingers dallied over Astoria's cleavage and her father shook his head._

"_Not at all, do what you must." He escorted his wife from the parlor, and it was the last time Astoria looked upon her mother._

_The Wizard removed Astoria's cloak with lingering fingers before prodding her heaving bosoms. His predatory smile made her uncomfortable, but Astoria had been warned to behave. The Wizard hefted her breasts before exposing them to the firelight._

"_Stop it." Astoria pushed at his hands, but The Wizard only laughed at her tenacity. _

_He pinched her protruding nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and nodded, pleased with her body's responses. It wasn't often he was privy to such innocent wares, and while he would never properly defile the girl, he wasn't against a taste._

"_You will inform your father I have found you acceptable. You will tell him you are pleased to accept the position offered. You will also remove your skirts. I'd rather like to sample some of your wares. If you refuse, well, there's no telling what I'll do to your poor, distraught mother." The Wizard bent his head and suckled Astoria's breast, his hands fumbling beneath her skirts._

_Astoria was shocked by his behaviours and froze. She allowed the man to remove her skirts and walk around her slowly. She closed her eyes, silent tears streaming down her cheeks while The Wizard assaulted her semi-clad body with gentle caresses._

"That's not the worst we've heard. At least he didn't fuck you. He fucked me, but I wasn't a virgin either. He's not the worst I've ever had." Tracey Davis shrugged and scrubbed Astoria's breasts until they were pink and raw.

The door to the suite slammed open and the girls gasped. Lisa wrenched Astoria from the bathing tub and toweled her dry while Tracey tossed a filmy negligee toward the pair. Astoria squeaked when it was dragged over her head, embarrassed by the sheer material.

Thorfinn Rowle stomped into the bedchamber, The Wizard close behind, and perused the nervous witches. He ignored Lisa and Tracey, having sampled their wares numerous times. It was the shy brunette that drew his attention. She trembled, half hidden behind the other two and he grunted.

Astoria was unceremoniously pushed to the forefront. She attempted to hide her exposure with an arm across her bosom and a hand between her legs. Rowle only snickered, pleased with her curves.

"You've done well, Wizard." Rowle's coarse voice set Astoria on edge, but not more than watching the hulking man toss The Wizard a hefty bag of galleons.

"Will you require their services as well?" The Wizard bowed to Rowle, and the Death Eater was pleased with the deference.

"I suspect the little witch will be a hellcat like her sister. I may be in need of their…assistance."

The Wizard bowed. Astoria cowered. Tracey and Lisa sighed, each wishing for their freedom, and Thorfinn Rowle rubbed his large hands together. He barely knew where to start.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy panted, his long blond hair stuck to the sheen of sweat on his back, and his wife sighed. She stroked the flesh on his backside, more than ready for another tumble, but her husband was completely spent. Her long fingernails scraped along his skin, and Lucius flinched.

"Draco mentioned you had a visitor…" Lucius carefully rolled onto his back, covering his limp member with a bed sheet. He had learned the best way to distract Narcissa's amorous nature was to converse with her.

"Hmm yes, the young Greengrass witch paid me a visit. Of course, this was before our son was married without our presence." Narcissa sniffed in disdain, and propped her body against the cushioned headboard. She knew exactly what Lucius was doing, but she supposed he deserved a reprieve.

"Please tell me she was not pleading her petition. I do recall informing her father such a match was an impossibility, which had absolutely nothing to do with his daughter's worth." Lucius mopped his face with a hand towel, while waiting for his wife's reply.

"Astoria Greengrass is a daft witch, but she was sweet. She offered a most sincere apology for her sister Daphne's…indiscretion. She wished nothing more than to make amends. I quite liked the poor girl. I do believe it would be a kind gesture to invite her to tea. Merlin knows the girl needs some direction, with a mother like hers, it's a wonder she's come so far unscathed. I can't imagine it continuing for long." Narcissa frowned, and Lucius knew she was off in her own world, which suited him just fine.

"The Minister for Magic really should do something about the riffraff in Knockturn Alley." Lucius spied the Daily Prophet on the bedside table, and the obscure article in the corner had caught his eye. "It seems there have been more cases of missing witches, but Shacklebolt has been distracted…"

"Of course, he's been distracted. Our son Demonstrated before the Wizengamot, and before that he murdered a dreadful witch. Hermione Granger's Foundation was burned to the ground, and let's not even discuss the kidnapping of that beautiful little girl. Such a shame she had family. She would have done the Malfoy name proud." Narcissa pouted, and Lucius scrambled to distract her.

The very last thing he wanted was his wife to suggest they have another child. He knew they were still in their prime, but that wasn't the point, no, it wasn't the point at all. Lucius Malfoy was long passed the age of wishing to change nappies and listen to wailing in the middle of the night. He enjoyed late evenings spent before a crackling fire with a tumbler of firewhiskey and a priceless book. Another child would upend his entire world, therefore making even the thought an impossibility.

"My dear, think of this. In a matter of months, your arms shall be filled with the newest edition to the Malfoy family. We couldn't ask for anything more." Lucius patted his wife's folded hands, completely ignoring the way she dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief.

"Molly Weasley's daughter is expecting. Harry Potter's little witch as well. It seems our son's generation has nothing better to do than shag." Narcissa rolled her eyes, her long fingers grasping the corner of the crisp white sheet.

"Hmm yes, but our grandson will be the smartest, and best looking of the bunch." Lucius nodded knowingly, and nudged Narcissa with his shoulder.

"What if the child is a girl?"

"Then…she shall be the prettiest. We'll hope she doesn't have her mother's hair, and insist Draco provide us with a grandson posthaste."

Narcissa purred deep in her throat and casually tossed her bare leg over her husband's lap. She sidled into his side, her curved fingernails scraping across his slick chest. Lucius gulped, but knew better than to attempt and dissuade her. His flaccid member twitched along his thigh, which only caused Narcissa to growl low and deep, while nipping his shoulder.

"Lucius," Narcissa pouted, whined even against his throat, "Do you not find me attractive?" She grasped his length in a surprisingly gentle grip, but the poor cock refused to rise to the occasion.

"Cissa darling, I'm simply spent. I always find you attractive, but I'm older now and my…"

"I could fix that for you." Narcissa's eyes darkened as she climbed over her husband's unclad body. Her hands searched between his thighs, pushing on the swollen sacks nestled beneath his sleeping member.

"I'd…really rather you didn't…MERLIN!" Lucius Malfoy squealed, much like a pig brought to the slaughter, and his wife smiled, pleased with the results.

"Oh Lucius, don't be such a prude. There's nothing wrong with a digit in the bum to make you rise for my pleasure."

* * *

Draco Malfoy sulked, alone in the bedroom, while his new wife entertained guests. He had imagined being reunited with Hermione numerous times, and not once had he imagined his home filled with Gryffindors. He had pictured her naked and sprawled across silver sheets. Perhaps she would be sporting green garters, or nothing more than a smile. Listening to Harry Potter blather was definitely not on the menu, and therefore, Draco sulked.

"Oi, Malfoy, you can't leave us alone out there." Harry Potter cautiously knocked on the closed bedroom door while glancing nervously over his shoulder.

"Leave him be, Harry. What if he gets angry and…eats us?" Ron plucked at Harry's maroon t-shirt sleeve, whispering loudly.

"I told you, Veela don't eat people. Though, I have to admit I often wondered the same thing in the beginning." Blaise Zabini wedged himself between the two wizards in order to pound his fist upon the door.

It remained closed, but that didn't stop the trio of wizards. Blaise twisted the handle, and when the door refused to yield, he smashed his shoulder into it. The heavy oak creaked and splintered slightly, just before Draco wrenched it open. Blaise stumbled into the bedroom with Harry and Ron quickly following.

"Thank Merlin. It's absolutely murder out there." Ron wiped his forehead and sighed dramatically.

"Why?" Draco voiced his question to the heavens, with skyward eyes, his hands tossed into the air.

"The Gryffindors have a point, mate. You've got a load of hormonal witches and Pansy out there. You can't expect us to sit with that lot." Blaise faux shuddered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in Draco's bedchamber. "I thought you'd be shagging your wife, not having a dinner party, but what do I know."

"Yes, that would have been lovely. However, the chubby blonde sent an owl and it all went tits up from there. I except Theo shortly and I shan't have you lot coming to blows. You didn't really want the witch anyway, you simply wanted her knickers, and the sooner you admit, the better." Draco tossed his blazer onto the bed, wondering why he'd changed in the first place.

"I don't like it when you're the voice of reason." Blaise grumbled and crossed his arms, but made no further comment on the subject.

"Neither do I. Weasley, you touch another pair of Hermione's knickers, and you'll be urinating through your nostril."

Ron yelped and dropped the lacy knickers into the bureau, slamming his fingers in the process. The tears welled in his blue eyes, but not even Harry felt sorry for him. Only Ron would forget his head in the presence of a Veela.

"Don't think that's possible, but I don't want to put it to the test either." Ron sniffed and inspected his bruised fingers while Harry chuckled.

"Yeah so uhm, perhaps we should go to a pub. I don't relish the idea of listening to Ginny discuss her libido, Hermione, her craving for crisps and ice cream, and the idea of Luna deciding to combine the two, makes me feel a bit ill, frankly." The solemn group of boys shivered simultaneously as the imagery danced in their imaginations. It was not a welcome sight.

"Last time I went to the pub with you, Potter, I wound up killing a witch. I'd rather avoid such scenarios in the future. I'm sure you understand." Draco's voice oozed with sarcasm and Harry curled his lip.

"Ya sure, let's just go into the sitting room then. I'm sure the girls would be delighted to share stories on the noxious fumes of their intestines. I'm willing to wager Pansy will be up the duff soon enough and…"

"NO! NO! NO! NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! Are you fucking barmy? Me mum is already up my arse with talks of babies. I haven't even gotten married yet! I'm in no hurry to have any smelly babies! The journey there doesn't sound the least bit fun either! I can just hear it now! Ron, I want ginger ice cream and pumpkin pasties. Ron, rub my feet. I'm sorry the house smells like a toilet, Ron, but I can't help it. No. You shut up, Harry!"

Ron Weasley's face was a delightful shade of red. His blue eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed. The bewilderment laced with horror graced his face in a perfect fashion. The only problem was a particularly teary eyed Pansy Parkinson standing in the doorjamb.

"Y-you don't want to…have…children with me?" Pansy's bottom lip trembled and Ron panicked.

"No! I didn't say that! I just…I don't want them before we get married, that's all." Ron hurried forward and desperately clutched Pansy's hands, silently begging her to forgive his outburst.

"Draco, Ginny thought it would be funny to slip a bit of sugar into Hermione's tea. She's vomiting in the sink." Pansy coldly turned from Ron to address the irritated blond.

"Yes, I am aware." Draco waved his hand airily, struggling to maintain his apathetic demeanor in the face of the Weasel's unease.

"Aren't you going to tend to her?" Pansy wrenched her hands free and none too subtly wiped her palms on her pink skirts.

"Nope. I don't want to deal with her sick. I'm surrounded by Gryffindors in my bedroom, that's punishment enough." Draco groaned, knowing he was only delaying the inevitable, and pushed passed a snickering Harry and disgruntled Pansy.

He plucked Megan Jones from Hermione's side, and set her near the front door. He hoped she'd take the hint and leave, but instead she sighed and tapped her foot. Ginny McLaggen, whom he would always consider a Weasley, was exceedingly pale. Draco knew it was only a matter of moments before she joined Hermione to heave into the sink basin.

"Why can't you well meaning Gryffindors send owls and presents? Why, why must you come to my home?" Draco wiped the back of Hermione's neck with a damp tea towel, moaning his misery aloud.

"I'm Hufflepuff." Megan's blonde curls bounced, along with her breasts, but neither had an effect on Draco Malfoy.

"That's not better." His singsong words would have been amusing at another time, but his angry darkened eyes spoke volumes. "Where the fuck is Theo?" Draco snapped while his hands stroked soothing circles on Hermione's lower back.

"He said he needed to stop by a shop first. He should have been here by now…" Megan twirled the modest gold band on her finger, and it was obvious she was afraid.

Ginny eyed the witch carefully, thankful she had left Cormac at The Burrow. As much as she loved Hermione, bringing her new husband into the viper pit was not high on her list of things to do. There was no love lost between Cormac McLaggen and…well anyone, but he and Megan has always had a friendly sort of relationship.

"You really…love him, don't you? I mean, I thought, I suppose we all thought it was some sort of ruse…remnants of his Dark little spell, but…you love Theo." Ginny inhaled the soothing lavender scented handkerchief for the sake of her ailing stomach and observed Megan's eyes fill with tears.

"Oh bloody hell, now you've done it. She's going to cry, and I'm never going to have a moments peace with my wife."

Ginny ignored the lamenting Veela. She took a step toward Megan, than another. Megan shook like a leaf, and then she was in Ginny's arms. Luna decided now was as good a time as any, and embraced the two witches, humming lightly and swaying.

Hermione sighed, deciding it was in her best interest to allow Draco to hover. He practically carried her toward the settee, and the moment she sat upon it, he was covering her with a light caftan. She nibbled the crisps he'd shoved into her hand and silently observed the strange array of witches.

"Megan's crying…again?" Even Draco smiled, enjoying the fact Hermione sounded as forlorn as he felt.

"Yes, love. It seems Theo's gone off to do Merlin knows what and it's upsetting to her." Draco sidled into Hermione's side, pulling her into his chest. He purred lightly, resisting the unquenchable desire to have her in his lap.

Hermione wanted to interrogate Megan. It was her nature to be inquisitive, and Megan's upset only exacerbated the situation. There was something about the Huffelpuff's witch's secretive manner that gave Hermione pause. From her deductions, Megan Jones knew something, and keeping the secret was giving her angst.

"I love it when your Gryffindor mind sets to task. It makes your body temperature rise. It causes gooseflesh to flit across your skin. Your heart rate increases, and of course, you gnaw your bloody lip, which drives me absolutely mad." Draco's warm breath tickled Hermione's ear as he whispered, gently squeezing her close. "You're going to make our son neurotic if you don't calm, love."

"Are you absolutely certain we're having a boy?" Hermione arched her eyebrows, her brown eyes flecked with defiance.

"I'm Veela." Draco offered a half shrug, quite smug. "If you makes you feel better, Potter's witch is having a boy as well. The Weasley witch is having a girl, and Megan over there, yes, I do think girl as well."

Megan managed to dislodge an insistent Luna in order to confront Draco Malfoy. Her cheeks were stained with tears. Her poor nose was obviously sore and quite red. Her face was flushed, but the Hufflepuff witch was downright furious.

"How dare you? How dare you speak such a boldfaced lie? I don't bloody care if you are Veela, you're a bastard. Theo's gone off to confront Thorfinn Rowle, on his own no less and you're sitting here telling lies. You could be marching straight down to Knockturn Alley and tearing that Death Eater from limb to limb, but you'd rather lament your inability to shag and speak lies!" Megan stamped her foot, angrily shoving her purple spectacles up the bridge of her nose, while a long, deep growl burst forth from Draco's lips.

"I speak no lies, witch." His teeth gnashed together, and if it hadn't been for the instantaneous arrival of the Gryffindors, Draco probably would have struck the offending witch.

"Oi! Malfoy, you're missing the point. Little Miss Huffletears over there revealed Theo's location. Shall we have a go? You know I can't resist a good brawl and I reckon Rowle deserves a particularly painful beating." Blaise Zabini deftly stepped between Draco and Megan, saving her quite the tongue-lashing.

Pansy huffed, still ignoring the pleadings of her fiancé. She bustled about the kitchen preparing tea service. She supposed it was the least she could do considering it was obvious the boys were itching for a fight. She knew they'd head off to Knockturn Alley, and probably discover Theo in his cups, rather than confronting a dangerous Death Eater, but it would get them out of her hair.

Luna Lovegood led a disgruntled Megan to the washroom, and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. Hermione silently thanked Luna. Draco considered sending her a gift basket, but decided against it considering her eclectic tastes. Harry had half a mind to follow her, but imagined shagging her wouldn't go over well, and Blaise thanked Merlin, Salazar, and even Godric that he never shagged the sobbing witch.

"Pansy, you can't possibly remain angry with me. It's a perfectly normal request. I mean, what sort of wizard knocks up his fiancé before…" Ron's blue eyes bulged as he realised his faux pas.

His freckled hands rose as he backed away from the growling black-eyed Veela and the narrowed green eyes of his best mate. Ron swallowed hard and shook his head, desperately searching for the proper words to save his life. His lips parted, but he was able to do nothing more than gape stupidly.

"Ron is an idiot. Its is not particularly new information." Hermione carefully stroked Draco's chest with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes. "Now, you boys head straight to Diagon Alley. You all know Theo feels terribly responsible for Thorfinn Rowle and his Death Eater ways. He's apt to get himself into awful trouble alone." She clapped her hands and Harry rolled his eyes.

"We better go. She's just going to keep on lecturing us and I've heard enough to last me a lifetime. Sorry, but true." Harry dragged a still stunned Ron by the collar of his clashingly orange shirt and dragged him out the front door.

Blaise tipped his imaginary hat, and avoided perusing the impressive cleavage spilling from the top of Hermione's dress. He cleared his throat noisily and nudged Draco none too gently on the way out. His compressed lips barely concealed the laughter caught in the back of his throat, which did nothing to calm his mate.

Draco had absolutely no intention of leaving his bride, but the glaring brown eyes narrowed, informing him otherwise. He sighed and enveloped her in his arms, holding her tight. He inadvertently nuzzled her neck, consumed by the flutter of wings deep within her abdomen. It went against his every instinct to leave her behind, but in the end, Draco Malfoy stepped into onto the cobblestone beside his wife's best mates and Apparated to Knockturn Alley with a pop.

"Well, this was a bad fucking idea."


	23. Of Rips & Tears

**AN: Ok so, I really thought this was going to be the last chapter...it's not. Sorry? Don't hate me too much. We're almost at the close. Swear it. ;)**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Rips &amp; Tears

* * *

Hermione Malfoy hesitated. It wasn't often she actually hesitated, but there were moments when her heart and her brain battled within. With a dejected sigh, she gently placed her quill onto the mahogany desk. She refused to bury her face in her hands, but the thought was there.

"I don't think you should do it." Luna Lovegood sauntered into the cozy study with a feather duster.

She had decided to remain with Hermione once the boys had left for Knockturn Alley. Luna supposed it would ease Draco's angst, though she couldn't be certain. She had sent Pansy and Megan on their way, together, despite Pansy's protests, and Ginny had taken to napping in the guest room.

"You're probably right. I just…I want to see her. I want to know she's alright." Hermione twirled a strand of golden brown curls around her finger and slumped in the upholstered desk chair.

"She's fine. She's with her aunt and uncle who will adore her. Nova is a beautiful little girl and I know you love her, but…" Luna paused, quickly shaking her feather duster along the window ledge.

"Yes, I know. If I constantly flit in and out of her life, it will only confuse her and irreparably damage the bonding process. I'm sure Raven and Anderson would become angry with me and…" Hermione gnawed her lip, her sentence drifting off as her thoughts overwhelmed her.

"It's best to let them be. You'll see her again. Things always have a way of working out." Luna smiled in her strange little way, and Hermione realised the blonde witch was absolutely correct.

Hermione slapped her palms onto the dark wood desk and stood abruptly. A light wave of nausea, laced with a side of dizziness, caused her take pause. Her hand immediately fluttered to her abdomen, and she silently wondered how she hadn't known.

"Would you…like to come with me? I do think I'd rather like to go to Flourish and Blott's." Luna arched an eyebrow at Hermione's impressive collection of tomes, causing the other witch to huff. "Don't look at me like that. I haven't any books about being with child or childrearing for that matter. Merlin, I haven't the slightest idea what to do about any of it."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right. I could do with a few books. I'd love some chips, dripping with salt." Luna sighed dreamily, her lips smacking together at the thought of blisteringly hot wedges of potato.

"Did I hear mention of chips? Cor, that'd be delightful. Where are we going then?" Ginny McLaggen poked her mussed red head into the study while wiping the last vestiges of sleep from her brown eyes.

Hermione inadvertently laughed. There was something about the way Ginny's hair stuck to her head, the way she hungrily licked her lips, and even the way she scoured the study for the slightest trace of food. Hermione was reminded of her years spent at Hogwarts scoffing at Ron's inability to eat without stuffing his face. She supposed Ginny had learned the same, considering the poor girl had to fight off six brothers to get her fair share.

"You really…are a Weasley." Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and dodged the angry flying arm of said former Weasley.

"She's much prettier than Ron." Luna dropped her multicoloured feather duster and skipped toward the door.

Ginny snorted, keeping a protective hand on the obvious mound of her abdomen. Frankly, she was terrified of becoming a mother, but she would never voice her concerns. Her mother was Molly Weasley, and her friends wouldn't be able to understand her anxiety on the matter. They'd assume she was being dramatic if she aired her fears, and so Ginny McLaggen kept silent on the matter.

"I don't…feel well." Luna Lovegood wavered on her feet, causing Hermione and Ginny to rush forward.

They managed to cushion Luna's fall, winding up in an undignified heap of limbs and skirts. Ginny snorted, shoving her red hair out of her face. Hermione pressed her palm to Luna's forehead and groaned. Luna's pale blue eyes fluttered, and worried Hermione more than a little.

"She's got quite a temperature."

"Great. Off to St. Mungo's then! So much for my bloody chips."

* * *

Theodore Nott carefully slipped into Knockturn Alley, ambling down the broken stairs quickly. He pulled the collar of his black cloak up to his ears, and shaded his face from curious bystanders. The last thing he wanted was to be recognised.

He didn't make a habit of traversing Knockturn Alley, at least he hadn't since the end of the War. His father had enjoyed many a jaunt into the less than savory shops, but no matter how hard he had once tried, Theo wasn't his father. He realised now, it was a blessing.

Theo peered into the grimy windows of Borgin and Burkes, shivering with distaste. While it had been one of his father's favourite shops, Theo avoided it whenever possible. He slowly moved passed 13B, and trudged toward Beard Trimmings.

It was a simple little barbershop, but it was also the eyes and ears of Knockturn Alley. There wasn't a witch or wizard that wandered the cobblestone that wasn't seen by old Podric Batworthy. Personally, Theo believed Podric to be a little batty, so he supposed the bloke's name was fitting.

The door creaked when he pushed it open, but Theo managed to maintain his composure. The dull-eyed wizard in the barber chair barely blinked at his arrival, and Podric Batworthy XXII barely nodded. Theo stepped into the shop and immediately strode toward the back. The last thing he wished was for the tongue wagging to commence.

"Rancid, give me a moment. It seems I've a customer in need." Podric shuffled his feet, his thick lips gaping, and inclined his balding gray head toward the back room.

"Have you seen Rowle?" Theo spat the second the heavy door was quietly shut.

"Hmm, perhaps I have." Podric's deep-set black eyes were unsmiling even as his fingers moved, gesturing for galleons. Begrudgingly, Theo dropped more than a few galleons into the man's gnarled hands, and waited. "Yes, yes I do recall seeing that delicious specimen of hulking man wandering round. If I can remember properly, he stepped into The White Wyvern, but as everyone knows, The Spiny Serpent will be his final destination. He does have a proclivity for young, unwilling witches."

Theo gagged slightly as his distaste turned into bile. He managed to mumble a quick thanks before stumbling back into Knockturn Alley. Theo was rethinking his choices. He wanted to be home, with Megan, but he knew he wasn't worthy, not yet. He wanted to be, he strived to be, and rescuing that little girl had been a step in the right direction. However, now, Theo wanted Thorfinn Rowle.

It was personal now. He had allowed himself to be lulled into acquiescence by Rowle's demands for greatness, prodding Theo with reminders of his father's pride, which convinced him to go along with the nefarious plans of revenge. Theodore Nott now knew they served no purpose other than to elevate Rowle to a position of prestige among wizards already imprisoned in Azkaban. Theo was furious with himself for succumbing.

He had hated his father. He had always hated his father. He had hated Draco's father as well, but at least Lucius had seemed to care for his only son, which is more than Theo's father had ever done.

Theo creaked up the stairs leading to The White Wyvern, avoiding the beady eyes staring at him through the windows of the pawnbrokers. He swallowed hard and stepped into the seedy pub with held breaths.

He squinted in the yellow light, searching, praying he would discover Rowle before he'd vacated the premises. The last thing he wished was to step a single-foot into The Spiny Serpent. Theo was sadly aware of The Wizard and the array of witches he had tricked into service. Most of their families hadn't the slightest idea, and those that did, pretended they didn't. It was easier that way, at least that's what they told themselves as they counted their galleons.

"Don't bother Nott, Rowle ain't here." The gruff barkeep barked across the darkened space and Theo flinched.

"Fuck." The singular word was a combination of distaste, fear, and revulsion, but Theo knew he would cross the threshold into the tawdry brothel in the end.

"Aye. I reckon that's what he's doing. Off to The Spiny Serpent with you."

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle perused the brunette witch with keen eyes. He instantly spotted the similarities between this witch and his former. Silently, he thanked The Wizard with a slow nod, and licked his lips.

It was obvious she was terrified, which only added to his pleasure. The slight tremble to her lithe body made her breasts jiggle, pleasing him greatly. Rowle curled his finger, indicating she should step forward, but Astoria shook her head, and shrunk away from him.

"Aw, I can't have that." Thorfinn practically purred with delight, and moved toward the imposing four-poster bed.

Tracey and Lisa tugged on Astoria's unwilling arms and forced her to sit on the edge. The witches took their cues from the Death Eater, disinclined to anger him. They had been on the receiving end of his punishments before, and did not ever wish to return.

Rowle looked to The Wizard, who was salivating near the door. He didn't understand the man's proclivity to exacerbating the pain of witches, but it didn't trouble him in the least. The Wizard tossed the Death Eater a pair of golden shackles, and finally vacated the room. Tracey and Lisa sighed in relief, as the knowledge they would not be utilised, eased the anxiety fisting in their chests.

"Bind her." Rowle roughly ordered, and the two witches quickly did his bidding.

Astoria began to cry, the silent sort of tears that would not earn her any sympathy amongst her current company. She closed her big dark eyes as the witches seized her wrists. She shivered as the cold golden metal grazed her skin, and then she was falling onto her face.

"You may leave." Astoria listened to the sound of Tracey and Lisa's footsteps with fear in her heart.

She rubbed her tear-stained cheeks onto the crisp linens, and resisted the urge to scream. Surprisingly gentle large hands shoved her filmy powder blue negligee up her thighs, baring her round arse. Astoria sobbed into the bed, despising the fact she couldn't see the terrifying man situating himself behind her.

She didn't understand the magical bindings, but knew she was incapable of movement. Her arms were stretched over her head while she lay face down across the four-poster. Her bare feet barely touched the ground, and she gasped when her legs were kicked apart.

"Your sister preferred to hide her face as well." Thorfinn laughed cruelly, his fingers digging into her supple arse cheeks.

He snickered when Astoria clenched her thighs shut, as if that would stop him. He easily spread her legs once more and began investigating her virgin folds. His large fingers stroked her casually, his eyes peering down at her sex with interest.

"Please, don't." Astoria whimpered earning a sound smack on her arse.

"I've got to prime you, silly witch. Would you prefer it on your back?" Rowle continued to stroke her, irritated with her body's lack of response.

"Yes, please." She hadn't the slightest idea what she was asking.

Thorfinn shrugged and quickly flipped his newest toy onto her back. He eyed her breasts appreciatively, tearing the negligee from Astoria's skin. He shoved her onto the bed fully, keeping her arms firmly locked over her head. He forced her knees to bend and slammed the soles of her feet onto the feather tick.

Astoria's strangled gasp gave him pause. It seemed his little witch finally realised he was completely bare. Rowle stroked his thick cock and reached forward to squeeze her breast. He liked the way she bruised, and so easily as well. He smiled upon seeing the long thick purple slashes decorating her breasts and decided to taste them.

Her screams were of no consequence. Rowle mauled her breasts with his lips, his teeth sinking into her hardened crests. His fingers worked between her thighs, sliding into her tight passage. He was fond of humiliation, and vowed to tease her until her body betrayed her.

Rowle was quickly growing frustrated and tore away from her body. He decided perhaps a different approach was necessary. Thorfinn reclined beside Astoria and gently wiped the tears from her pinkened cheeks.

"Did I scare you?" Thorfinn Rowle crooned into her ear, gently hefting her closest breast.

Astoria nodded slowly, afraid to use her voice. She didn't want to feel his hand rise against her in anger. It was bad enough her breasts ached, and the special place between her thighs throbbed. She had never been exposed to anything remotely sexual, as her parents had sheltered her greatly. She didn't know the proper reactions to her current assault, but Astoria had learned to remain silent.

"I'll make it all better. Spread your legs for me." Rowle caressed her bare thigh, and while Astoria had immediately clamped her legs together before, they slowly fell open as she was caught off guard by his sweet voice.

Thorfinn's eyes narrowed in contemplation and he knew he had her. She was the sort of witch that would not respond to violence. It didn't bother him any, he knew his way around a witch and in the end, they were all impaled upon his cock.

Astoria's dark eyes flew open upon feeling his tongue swirl circles around her nipples. She braced herself for the feel of his teeth, but the pain didn't come. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but then he was moving down her body.

His hands cupped her bum and then his hot breath was between her legs. Astoria stared at the ceiling, her breaths slow and raspy. She felt his hard fingers spreading her open and then it was his hot tongue.

Her body betrayed her, feeling warm and tense even as pleasure flowed through her veins. He probed and sucked, burying his face in her, until Astoria's whimpers turned into moans. While his tongue flicked the throbbing nub, his fingers worked their way inside her, moving in time as her hips flexed.

Rowle snarled in relief when her legs trembled, and he felt her come to completion. He watched her for a moment, enjoying the way her legs sagged open and her breasts rose and fell with every laboured breath. While Astoria was busy contemplating her body, Thorfinn was wedging himself between her legs with a cruel smirk on his face.

She barely had time to gasp before her vision was compromised with black spots as she was torn asunder. The sound of her screams caused the other witches of servitude to wince as they recalled their first time with the beastly Death Eater. They did not envy her, no, they did not envy her at all.

* * *

Draco Malfoy landed with a flourish, and immediately rolled his eyes. The Dynamic Dipshits were struggling with Theodore Nott and Blaise was observing from afar. The soul shattering scream reverberating down Knockturn Alley gave them all pause.

"Well, this was a bad fucking idea."

"Bloody hell." Ron Weasley covered his ears, with an exasperated grimace, and shouted above the echoing scream, "What is that awful sound?" He shoved Theo into the brick of Borgin and Burkes with a curled lip and narrowed blue eyes.

"Knockturn Alley prides itself on broadcasting from The Spiny Serpent. It's not constant and it should stop soon enough. It's the sound of a deflowered witch, Weasley." Blaise Zabini growled angrily, finally intervening to free Theo.

"What the fuck are you lot doing here? I can handle this on my own. I don't need you. I don't need any of you." Theo struggled, but he was no match for Blaise's superior strength. In fact, he looked quite like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum.

"Yeah sure, we'll just go then and let you confront the most wanted Dark Wizard since Voldemort." Harry Potter shrugged, but his sarcasm wasn't lost on the angry dark eyed wizard.

Theo's lips snarled, but his menacing glare did little. Ron Weasley still had his hands firmly clamped over his ears, the expression on his face absolutely comical. Draco Malfoy looked downright bored with the entire situation. Blaise Zabini inspected his fingernails while keeping a firm arm locked around Theo's throat, and Harry Potter, well he began the short jaunt to The Spiny Serpent.

"Malfoy, Potter's going off on his own. You best follow him. You know nothing good ever comes of that." Blaise tightened his forearm, and Theo's strangled gargle was drowned out by the earsplitting shrieks.

"Granger will never forgive me if Potter offs himself on my watch." Draco grunted and harshly yanked his cloak firmly around his thin body. "I suppose that sniveling Hufflepuff wouldn't be too pleased if I sat idly by while the father of her equally sniveling unborn brat was torn to pieces by a Death Eater. Oh, the lengths I must to go to keep witches happy. It really is never ending." He drew his wand and growled, low and long.

The Wizard was refusing entry to Harry Potter, and that didn't sit well with Draco Malfoy. Yes, there were certain traditions to be upheld, but it was quite rude just the same. Draco cleared his throat, his grey eyes nary more than slits, and The Wizard immediately retreated. After receiving a jarring elbow in the side, Harry slid a few galleons into The Wizard's hand, under protest.

Blaise Zabini tossed Theo through the door, and The Wizard didn't bat an eye. He was quite used to acts of violence, both within and outside the doors of his lucrative business. He assumed the poor bloke was in the midst of an initiation, but as for what sort, well, such things were not for him to inquire.

"Mr. Malfoy, I've often lamented the inability to serve your family. However may I be of service?" The Wizard bowed, quite low, and Draco just managed to keep from tearing the man's throat from his spine. "Oh my word, Mr. Malfoy, is that a…a…Weasley?"

Poor Ron stumbled into The Spiny Serpent after Blaise, with his fingers still firmly jammed into his ears. Being a little slow on the uptake, he hadn't realised the sounds of torture were only amplified outside the establishment. Inside, it was quite serene, causing Ron to look more ridiculous than usual.

"Oi, Weasley." Draco inclined his head, utilising the international sign for 'get out'. Ron looked to Harry, but after a quick silent conversation, he begrudgingly stepped back into Knockturn Alley.

"Mr. …" Harry let the word hang in the air until it was downright awkward.

"I am known only as The Wizard. How may I be of aid, Mr. Potter?" The Wizard hadn't the slightest intention of assisting Harry Potter in the least, and believed his thin smile would keep the young Auror completely unaware.

Harry's brows knitted just before his striking green eyes rolled heavenward. He shook his head lightly, silently counting the exits. From his vantage point, it seemed there was only the one door, but knowing how wizards loved their secrets, he assumed there were various hidden corridors, and perhaps even tunnels that led toward freedom.

He sensed the witch being broadcast down Knockturn Alley, was ensconced in a room up the wide, winding staircase. Harry noticed the way the scantily clad witches winced when wandering too close to the corridor nearest the stairs. His eyes turned to Draco and then the corridor, upon which he received an imperceptible nod in answer.

"It has come to the attention of the Ministry for Magic, that The Spiny Serpent is harbouring a known fugitive. As an Auror, it is my responsibility to dispel such offensive rumours by searching the premises. I have acquisitioned the aid of these fine wizards, however, if this is displeasing to you, I can return within the hour with the entire Auror Department." Harry was completely nonplussed by The Wizard's gasps of horror.

He was used to such antics. Harry had often been faced with the displeasure of various witches and wizards. It came with the job, and it didn't bother him in the least. He was immune to their begging and pleading. He rebuffed their bribes. Oftentimes, Harry would do nothing more than sigh, cross his arms, and wait for them to accept their fate.

Blaise Zabini was bored. He'd been hoping Theo hadn't gone off to search for Rowle. He'd be hoping they'd find Theo deep into his cups. Blaise fervently wished _he_ was in his cups, but instead he was stealthily climbing the staircase, keeping a careful eye on a determined Theo.

"Zabini?" The soft, defeated, feminine voice startled him, causing Blaise to shout.

* * *

Glazed dark eyes stared at the ceiling. The nubile, young witch rocked with motion, but no longer was she able to discern the difference between pleasure and pain. She imagined it was all a dream. A terrible, never-ending, pain filled dream, but a dream just the same.

She followed direction when prodded, her large dark eyes dry from the tears she had shed. She allowed her body to be manipulated and used, unable to stop the abuses. She vaguely recalled learning about pain receptors, and supposed hers had stopped responding, which was for the best.

Astoria, the broken Greengrass, blinked slowly, her dark hair bouncing across her cheeks as the relentless blond pounded into her flesh. She swore it had been days that she'd spent at his mercy, but it hadn't been more than a few hours at most. She recalled him muttering about a Potion that kept him at the ready, but she couldn't be certain.

It was a dream, a terrible dream, that's what she kept telling herself. Astoria Greengrass couldn't imagine a world where such things happened to pretty young witches. She couldn't imagine parents deciding they were done being parents, and selling them to the highest bidder.

"I could take you from here, would you like that?" The harsh voice in her ear, no longer made her shiver.

She was nothing more than a toy. The Death Eater enjoyed posing her, bending her, and even brushing her long dark hair. She had learned to nod, with hooded eyes, which pleased him greatly.

Thorfinn Rowle preferred his witches silent. It was always a source of contention as far as Daphne was concerned. She had been the sort of woman to object to his pinches and slaps. Her sister had no such issue. If he had been the sort of wizard who wished for a wife, he would have contemplated keeping her.

It was a simply matter to manipulate his witch across his lap. She sunk onto his cock with barely any direction. She learned quickly and he did love that. His fingers kneaded her pink arse cheeks while she dutifully bounced, thrusting her breasts into his face.

Rowle was so completely consumed by the breast in his mouth, the slick feel of his innocent witch writhing on his cock, and the buzz in his ears signifying his impending orgasm, he didn't hear the shouts in the corridor. He squeezed Astoria tightly, pounding into her as he spilt his seed. She stilled, but Rowle continued on, displeased with her silence. He wanted to feel her body tremble and shudder, and refused to relent until her gasps were short and her fingernails were digging into his shoulder.

"That's a good witch. Come on then, time to bathe you. I suspect by the time we've finished, I'll be good to go again." Thorfinn chuckled, his smile turning quickly into a menacing snarl until Astoria's lips spread into a smile.

"Do you ever get tired, milord?" Astoria had learned the Death Eater preferred terms of the utmost respect. She slid off the four-poster bed and followed a few steps behind Rowle toward the washroom.

"The Wizard keeps me well stocked." Thorfinn turned the taps and gestured for Astoria to step into the blisteringly hot cascading waters.

"I think there's someone at the door, sir." Astoria whispered, resisting the meaty palm pushing on her bruised shoulder.

Thorfinn Rowle snarled, yet snatched a plush white towel from a nearby shelf, and tossed it around his hips. He strode toward the closed door, tilted his head, and listened carefully. Astoria was minimally intrigued by the way his eyes widened and his jaw gaped.

* * *

"MR. POTTER!" The Wizard stood between Harry and Thorfinn Rowle's chambers with fear in his beady eyes. "I cannot allow you to breach the wards. I afford my clientele a certain modicum of protections and without the proper decrees from the Minister, I cannot…"

"Odiferous Carrow." Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt puffed his dark cheeks in displeasure upon addressing The Wizard.

Ron Weasley looked particularly proud of himself as he stood beside the Minister. Harry was mildly impressed with Ron's initiative. Frankly, he believed his mate would still be grumbling in the midst of Knockturn Alley with his fingers in his ears.

"Mr. Potter, consider the necessary decrees yours. I would suggest freeing the witches huddled behind Mr. Zabini and Mr. Nott." Kingsley dared The Wizard, otherwise known as Odiferous Carrow to refute his words.

Harry Potter took a deep breath and flicked his wand. The golden shackles decorating the witch's wrists fell to the floor with a great clatter. Tracey Davis stared at her freed skin with tears in her eyes, and a sob in her throat. Lisa Turpin dissolved into hysterical sobs, and no one was able to discern her words, but Harry supposed they were words of gratitude.

"Ron, would you mind escorting them to St. Mungo's? They're in need of medical attention. Perhaps you'd better send for Pansy, she might have a way with them." Ron nodded quickly, anxious to separate himself from the huffing Draco Malfoy.

Strangely enough, Theo and Draco drifted toward each other, drawing off the other's fury. Their fists were clenched, their eyes narrowed, and that was where the similarities ended. Draco's nostrils flared as he caught scent of the Death Eater who had placed his mate in harm's way.

His grey eyes were dangerously dark, and even the Minister had enough sense to step away from him. His fingers flexed, stretching the joints as they transformed into malicious talons. His teeth gnashed together with such ferocity, his lips bled as his incisors elongated into familiar fangs.

"Odiferous, the door if you will? Unless of course, you prefer an angry Veela to rip the door from its hinges." Kingsley dared The Wizard to refuse, though the man vacillated.

He truly had to decide his fate in that moment. Would he rather watch his life's work torn to pieces by a rage-filled Veela, or have his body torn to pieces by an acclaimed Death Eater? Neither option was the least bit appealing, and in the end, The Wizard opted to open the door, as the threat of Azkaban terrified him the most.

Theodore Nott, the bravest of the bunch, grasped Draco's forearm, ignoring the earsplitting Veela shriek. He dared to stare into the obsidian pools glaring down at him, and his eyes narrowed, just as angry. Theo drew his wand and pointed it, not at the furious Veela, but toward the Death Eater's temporary quarters.

"Malfoy, let me have a moment. I know you've got a grudge, and I respect it. Kill him if you like, rip him to bloody pieces, but let me have a moment first. I don't expect to be able to kick his arse, but I'd like to hex him. I need this."

Draco's beaklike features softened, which was a strange sight to behold, and he paused. The Veela wanted to wrench the man's fingers from his graying skin, and find the object of his rage. However, the man housed within, understood his friend's desires. He nodded curtly, and took the smallest step backward.

Theo's hand trembled slightly, but Harry attributed it to rage more than fear. He had every intention of following Nott. It wouldn't behoove an Auror to allow two former Death Eaters to converge on an enemy without a Ministry official present.

Odiferous Carrow, The Wizard, attempted to sidle down the narrow corridor, only to be met with an amused Blaise Zabini. His intention had been to aid Ron Weasley with the whimpering witches, but interfering with The Wizard's attempted escape was much more appealing. Blaise shoved the withered wizard, his palm thumping against the man's sunken chest.

"You won't catch him! You've no need for me!"

Blaise rolled his eyes, caught The Wizard around the collar, and dragged him before the Minister for Magic. Kingsley was conferring with Tracey Davis, promising her she was safe and set them off with Ron, before turning to Odiferous. While he was contemplating the many different charges to be brought against the poor excuse for a wizard, Theo Nott had stepped into the bedchamber.

The scene before him was the very last thing he had ever expected to see. Thorfinn Rowle was casually leaning in the doorjamb of the washroom. The towel, while plush in nature, barely concealed his thick thighs. He held a nude and apathetic Astoria Greengrass against his chest, her breast in his hand.

"I suppose it's only fair to return the favour, aye Nott?" Rowle smiled and bent the poor witch at the waist. Without preamble, he dropped his towel and easily settled between her spread thighs. "She's not quite your type though is she? A little too thin, yes? You've always had a penchant for a witch with some meat on her bones. Can't say that I blame you, but this one is a fair shag. Perhaps if you're good, I'll let you have a go." Thorfinn laughed, causing Theo to flinch.

"Stupefy!" Theodore Nott stood strong, tall, and unafraid. The spell rang through the room, arching in perfect scarlet light, and yet Thorfinn only thrust faster, with a harsh laugh.

"You'll hafta do better than that! S'pose The Wizard didn't inform you lot about the Enchantments." Thorfinn slowed, but only because the sight of Draco Malfoy shocked him to the core.

He'd heard the rumours, but to see the Malfoy heir in his Veela form first hand, would have terrified any wizard. Thorfinn Rowle however, was more intrigued than terrified. He studied the birdlike creature with shrewd eyes. He quickly deduced he was out of his element. He shoved Astoria to the side, his eyes never leaving the slowly advancing Veela.

Theo and Harry continued to cast spells in Rowle's direction, but The Spiny Serpent's Enchantments held, to their great chagrin. They had assumed the exterior of the room was well warded to keep others from intruding, but protections for the actual clientele were beyond their area of expertise, and incredibly vexing.

The otter Patronus disrupted the one-sided firefight, just as Draco surged forward, preparing to sink his elongated teeth into the bane of his existence. Harry Potter paused, an Unforgivable on his lips, when Hermione's distressed voice filled the bedchamber.

"_We've a crisis. Come to St. Mungo's posthaste."_

Draco Malfoy snarled, mid-step and faltered. There was something in her voice that alarmed him, as Hermione was not the sort of witch to feign upset. His feathered wings shuddered, as he was torn between hurrying to his wife, or destroying the Death Eater.

He turned to Theo, whose chest was heaving with the exertion of spells refusing to break through the protections. His mussed hair was slick with sweat, sticking to his forehead, but his feet remained true. Draco appreciated Theo's form, considering the poor boy was obviously exhausted. Theo's feet dug into the plush carpet, and he looked ready to pounce.

"Go, Malfoy! We'll hold him here." Harry shouted, feeling in his bones the Enchantments were slowly bending under the strain of absorbing their spells.

"No, Potter. You shan't." With a glint of triumph in his eyes, Thorfinn Rowle Disapparated.


	24. Of Endings & Beginnings

**AN: And here we are, the last chapter. I hope you have enjoyed the journey as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm sad to see it end, but also glad to move on to new things. I expect to write some sort of epilogue, and if there's something in particular you'd like to see or wish to know, then drop me a line.**

**As always...enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Of Endings &amp; Beginnings

* * *

Hermione Malfoy nervously nibbled her lip while waiting for the Healers to return. She suspected Luna hadn't been eating nearly enough, but her temperature was what concerned Hermione the most. Of course, Ginny had disappeared the moment she discovered the teashop was still open, which didn't bother Hermione. She preferred to wait and fret alone. It was better than listening to the laments of a ravenous Weasley.

"Oi, Hermione? What are you doing here?" Ron Weasley ambled toward his friend, carefully avoiding her intended embrace.

"Really? You're being ridiculous. He's not anywhere about." Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, keeping one eye on Luna's Mediwitch.

"Yeah well, I'm not taking any chances. I've just come from him and well, he's in rare form if you know what I mean." Ron shivered, and carefully lowered himself into the plastic chair beside Hermione.

"Rare form? What do you…oh Merlin. He must be absolutely furious to have transformed. I'm going to assume you lot have discovered Rowle's whereabouts?" Hermione slowly rose from her chair, and swallowed hard.

She'd been having bouts of dizziness and nausea, but there wasn't a need to regale Ron with her ailments. He looked absolutely traumatised, and Hermione wondered if it had anything to do with the sobbing, barely clad witches near the end of the corridor. They continuously looked to him, but Ron being Ron, was completely oblivious.

"You think?" Ron scoffed. "Rowle was holed up in The Spiny Serpent. The cheeky wizard refused to let me in. I showed him though, I went and retrieved the Minister. You should have seen him then, Hermione. Malfoy was ready to tear that bastard to pieces, but he and Theo worked out something or other I suppose. Shacklebolt had me escort those witches here, so I don't know what happened after." Ron scratched his head and shrugged, suddenly quite hungry.

"Wait. The Spiny Serpent? That's in the midst of Knockturn Alley. I've done a bit of light reading and…" Hermione spun on her heel, her eyes wide with fear and knowledge.

"Light reading, sure." Ron scoffed, jolting upright when Hermione smacked his arm.

"The Spiny Serpent is filled with Enchantments. It's a well-known brothel and The Wizard, who is a Carrow if you can believe that, insists upon protecting his seedy clients. They'll never be able to take Rowle there." Hermione paced in front of Ron's chair making him slightly dizzy, while she continued to mumble to herself.

"I'd rather not go back there. The Minister wanted me to…" Ron grimaced and instinctively wiggled his finger in his ear. He felt sorry for the poor witch whose screams had reverberated in his head, but at the same time, Ron did not wish to return to the scene no matter what Hermione wanted.

"No. It's fine, Ron. I'll send an owl. First, I need you to tell me everything you know. I need to know how many of you were there. Were there other Ministry officials or was it just Harry and the Minister? Was Rowle armed? I need details." Hermione leaned over and grasped Ron by the collar of his green button down, shaking him slightly.

"I don't like the sound of this at all. You're planning something, and I can already tell it's going to be dangerous." Ron slumped in his seat, but knew better than to argue with Hermione. It had never boded well for him before, and he didn't imagine it would change anytime soon.

A young, pretty Mediwitch, with long flowing chestnut hair approached Hermione and Ron, with a subtle swing to her ample hips. Hermione ignored the Mediwitch, instead concentrating on Ron. Ron's blue eyes widened, and then he was magically enthralled with the ceiling.

"Mr. Weasley?" The Mediwitch's breathy voice only caused Hermione to roll her eyes, while Ron continued to pretend she didn't exist.

"He's not going to answer you. He's engaged to Pansy Parkinson, you might want to tone it down a bit." Hermione crossed her arms, decidedly irritated with everything at the moment.

"In that case," The Mediwitch huffed, and interestingly enough, completely lost the husky tone in her soft voice, "the two witches you've brought in are in perfect order, though the on-call Healer wishes for them to remain under observation and perhaps speak with a Counselor before they're released. As for you, Mrs. Malfoy, your friend will be fine. She's asking for you." The brunette pointed to an open door in the corridor and rolled her eyes before stomping away angrily.

"I think she wished to have a go with you, Ron. I'm going to visit Luna, you should come. We've got to get a move on." Hermione teased Ron, enjoying the instant horror in his eyes, and the subtle green pallor to his skin.

"Not bloody likely…wait, a move on? What are you planning? I don't want any part of this. I want my objections to be noted!" Ron begrudgingly followed Hermione with a scowl on his freckled cheeks.

"We're going to lure Thorfinn Rowle here, of course."

"Wait, we're going to…what? Are you fucking mad? I'm actually quite curious as to how you're going to do this, while screaming a loud and resounding absolutely not!" Ron Weasley crossed his arms angrily, barring her entry to Luna's room.

She was almost impressed with his bravado, but in the end, all it took was a simple spell, and Ron was across the corridor. Hermione smirked and sauntered to Luna's bedside while her brain was working a mile a minute. She sat beside the willowy blonde and absently patted her friend's hand, as the ideas spun about.

"Luna, Hermione's barmy. For the love of Merlin, talk her out of it. You're alright though, yeah?" Ron rubbed the back of his head, continuously scowling at Hermione, who ignored his theatrics.

Luna Lovegood reclined upon the narrow hospital bed, looking paler than usual, but managed a small smile. How was she to know the Potion she had been downing every morning like clockwork contained an untested ingredient. Her intention hadn't been harm herself or her unborn child, but to protect him from the dangers of the womb.

The numerous creatures she could list off the top of her head that posed a risk were nearly countless in all. Wasn't it her job to ensure the best and brightest future for Harry Potter's child? Of course, the dangers of relatively unknown Potions posed risks she'd never imagined, though it seemed the Muggle prenatal vitamins Harry had forced down her throat had stymied the effects of Luna's nefarious Potion, as she calmly explained to her guests.

"Gods, Luna, what were you thinking? Wait, don't answer that." Hermione clenched Luna's slender hand in her own and sighed. "I can't say I would have done the same, but I understand wanting to do, and be, the best you possibly can. I understand wanting to protect your child. I suppose that's why I want to put an end to this ridiculous Rowle business. I've been unable to properly sleep at night, and Malfoy paces and growls, simply watching over me. The idea that you…that we, are bringing children into this sort of situation…terrifies me. I'd really like…" Hermione paused, quickly wiping her eyes before the tears began to fall.

"Of course I'll help Hermione. It seems the men are incapable of doing a job best left to women. Isn't that always the way?" Luna smiled conspiratorially, and dutifully sipped the cool water the Mediwitch silently provided. "I do think a Patronus would be best…"

Ron groaned loudly, faux thumping his head against the wall, and mumbling to himself about just escaping death. Hermione and Luna ignored him, and leaned toward each other. Luna's colour was quickly returning in the face of adventure, and even Hermione's eyes were bright with excitement.

"Brilliant, Luna! I can't believe I was considering an owl." Hermione gushed, Luna blushed, and Ron wished he'd never left the safety of his bed.

* * *

Thorfinn Rowle cackled in delight while witches and wizards in their lime green robes scattered like cockroaches. It wasn't only his nudity that was shocking. No, it was far more than that. Many recognised the Death Eater from the cover of the Daily Prophet, sporting the word 'Wanted' above his head.

It was child's play to force a young, terrified, Mediwitch into a storage room. He didn't have any plans of ravishing her, but the girl didn't know that. He learned it was better to allow others to think the worst of him. They were rarely wrong.

He snickered cruelly when she cowered in the corner. He noticed the way her eyes continuously flicked to his engorged cock. He grunted, almost wishing he had the time to properly terrorise the girl.

"You can stare or get me clothing. However, if you stare, I'm apt to put my member to good use." Thorfinn leered at the young, supple brunette, and licked his lips.

The young Mediwitch scuttled toward a cabinet in the corner, and wrenched open the doors. She hesitantly pointed to the shelves filled with white linen pants and patient robes. She tried to remove herself from the situation when he strode forward, but the meaty fist on her small breast brought tears to her eyes.

"Y-you said." The girl bitterly wept, images of her impending ravishment filling her head.

"Yes well, I've said loads of things I don't mean. Blame The Wizard. He offered me the Potion." Rowle laughed cruelly, and locked the storeroom door.

He fisted her lime green robes, tearing them off her young body. His guttural sigh of appreciation died in his throat. Thorfinn Rowle stumbled away from the witch, gasping, both horrified and confused.

"Well, she tasted a damn sight better than Goyle." Harry Potter wiped his mouth, instantly checking his chest and sighing.

He wasn't against breasts. He simply did not wish to _have_ them. He was pleased to note his underthings remained in place. He was glad he volleyed for keeping his boxers, despite his altered form. Harry couldn't imagine standing before a hulking Death Eater wearing a pair of lime green lace knickers.

"Fucking Potter." Thorfinn snarled, quickly regaining his senses, and tore the storeroom door from its hinges.

Harry chuckled, quite pleased with his performance. He stepped into a pair of linen pants and struggled into a matching shirt, before he stepped into the corridor. He hoped Malfoy and the Minister were prepared. There was one angry Death Eater headed in their direction.

* * *

Draco shook his bride by the shoulders, his sharp talons tearing the lace of her sleeves. His teeth snapped, and his muted silver eyes were vacillating between black onyx and steel grey. Hermione blinked rapidly, but she did not attempt to dissuade his fury.

She had been careless, reckless even. It was no longer a matter of having lured Thorfinn Rowle to St. Mungo's. It was her safety that set her Veela to fits. Hermione still felt betrayed, but she couldn't really blame Ron. His fear of Draco Malfoy far outweighed his healthy respect for Hermione.

"Do you have idea what could have happened? What he could have done? No, of course you don't. You were just doing what you do best, thinking you know everything." Draco was torn between wanting to comfort Hermione, and wishing to strangle her.

Hermione pushed away from him, suddenly angry. She knew it was a risk, but it was a calculated risk, for the greater good. If Hermione believed in anything, it was always the needs of many, outweigh the needs of few. She knew she was safe within the confines of St. Mungo's, but for Draco to assume she was incapable of defending herself, of protecting herself, well it was downright ludicrous.

"I am not a fragile piece of china, Malfoy. I took care of myself long before you barged into my life, upending everything really. I was managing, so don't you think for one second you can reprimand me as if I'm nothing more than a petulant child. I am not a child and…"

"Then stop acting as if you are!" Draco roared, his eyes wide and murky ink.

Hermione flinched away from his fury, realising it was not in her best interest to rile an already furious Veela. It was her nature to defend herself, and she hadn't stopped to consider the ramifications. She fiddled with her wand and drew a shaky breath.

"Malfoy…"

"No. You are my wife. It's obvious you don't care a wit for your own safety, but to put yourself in such danger while carrying my child? No. I have every right to remain furious with you. One wayward spell, and where would you be then? Where would we be?" Draco towered over his, unaware of his spreading winds in his blind fury. "Thank fuck Weasley had more sense than my wife. I can't believe I was forced to utter such things. Do you see what you've done to me?" Draco crashed into his wife, inhaling deeply at her throat, desperate to regain a small modicum of self-control.

"Mal-Malfoy?" Hermione stared in abject horror over his shoulder, fumbling with her wand. "Malfoy!" She struggled to free her right hand, and managed just before the scream bubbled in her throat. "Draco! STUPEFY!"

Hermione would have fallen backward from the force of her spell if it hadn't been for lean gray Veela arms practically suffocating her. She felt his wings flutter around them and closed her eyes. She hoped she had hit her target, but there was no way to know in her current predicament.

"DAMMIT HERMIONE!" Harry Potter and the Minister for Magic skirted the corner with their wands drawn, severely disappointed.

Thorfinn Rowle, in his infinite cleverness, had been distracted by the sudden appearance of Harry Potter. Instead of doing proper reconnaissance, he had hurried away as fast as his bare feet would take him. As luck would have it, Rowle nearly ran directly into a Demonstrating Veela and his mate.

"Sorry?" Harry acknowledged Hermione's muffled and meaningless apology, with a huff of irritation.

"You're not sorry, though. Don't growl at me, Malfoy. I was really looking forward to having a go at him. He would have ravished me, bastard." Harry kicked the naked Death Eater in the ribs, earning him a heavy frown from the Minister.

"Harry…" Kingsley Shacklebolt tried to keep his frown in place, but it was difficult.

"Minister! He deserves it. I'm not…hexing him. It's just a little kick." Harry shrugged, not the least bit contrite, while hoping Malfoy managed to calm down relatively quickly.

Thorfinn Rowle groaned on the cold hospital tile, but sympathy for the madman was exceedingly low. Draco Malfoy stiffened, his wing tips flicking, his lip twitching as he carefully unwound himself from his wife. He was remiss to release her, but considering the biggest threat to her wellbeing was currently unconscious, Draco managed to take a singular step away from her.

"Aw, you got him then?" Ron Weasley ambled down the corridor, his cheeks bright, but his eyes dull and forlorn.

"Hermione did it." Harry spoke accusingly, and Hermione could only shrug.

She wanted a closer look at Thorfinn Rowle, but Draco held her steady, wrapping his arms around her waist. She wanted to feel suffocated, but instead, she only felt love. Hermione closed her toffee eyes, and allowed the feelings to flow over her, soothing her angst, washing away her slowly simmering anger.

"Minister, would you be so kind as to escort me to visit with Luna Lovegood? I'm sure your more than capable Aurors will able escort Thorfinn Rowle to Azkaban, without supervision." Hermione winked toward Harry with a cheeky little grin.

"What a marvelous idea, Ms. Gr-er Mrs. Malfoy. Mr. Potter, I trust you can escort Mr. Rowle accordingly. Perhaps will he not arrive much worse for wear." Kingsley coughed lightly, and offered Hermione his arm.

"Malfoy, Draco, stop growling and listen. I'm going to go with the Minister. When you've finished, we can go home. I won't even host a celebratory party. Our evening will be just you…and I." Hermione stretched onto her toes and kissed his cheek, avoiding his lips.

"I love being able to feel you. I also…hate how you can feel me as well." Draco brushed his lips over her forehead, significantly calmed for the moment.

"I'll feel the bitch for you." Thorfinn Rowle sat up, his lips curled in derision. He might be outmatched, and know he was absolutely headed for Azkaban, but he wasn't going to allow an opportunity to anger Draco Malfoy pass him by.

"Shacklebolt, get her out of her here." Harry was the voice of reason in the midst of an impending shitstorm.

Draco's cheeks puffed, and despite the precarious situation, Harry placed his life in danger and shoved Hermione into Kingsley Shacklebolt. At least the Minister took the hint, and quickly whisked Hermione down the corridor. She had enough sense to refrain from struggling, and finally Harry drew a full breath.

He watched Draco's transformation with a combination of terror and awe. Harry was impressed with the wingspan on the dark gray feathered, yet also somewhat scaly wings. He avoided the wingtips, considering he'd heard of Lucius Malfoy's injury.

"Bloody hell." Ron breathed, his bright eyes, giant blue saucers.

"Stay out of his way, Ron. Cover the corridor. We can't have Rowle escaping again." Harry jammed Thorfinn's wand into his back pocket, proud of himself for remembering to disarm the Death Eater this go 'round.

"You could at least give me a wand you tossers!" The gravity of the monumental situation was finally fully realised by the burly, naked, Death Eater.

Thorfinn carefully stood, mindful of the heavy tufts of breath being expelled by angular gray cheeks. He gulped loudly, attempting to retreat from eyes that reminded him of the Black Lake. The earsplitting squall, combined with the gnashing of razor sharp fangs, and the snap of what could only be described as a beak, instilled fear in the Death Eater's heart.

"No, don't think we will." Harry removed himself from the situation, retreating to a small alcove in order to inspect his fingernails.

"D'ya think he'll eat him?" Ron was both anxious and filled with excitement. Despite the fact, he had been informed on more than one occasion, Veela do not literally eat people, he still stubbornly clung to the idea.

Draco Malfoy, predatory Veela, was carefully considering the best approach to attack. His control was slipping, and he knew without the careful instruction of Apolline, the walls of St. Mungo's would be littered with body parts and splashed with blood. The idea was still salivatingly appealing, causing him to growl low and long.

"I should have fucked her. I should have stripped her of her protections, and fucked her hard." Thorfinn spat, his words dripping with derision and carelessness.

Rowle knew his life was drawing to a close. It wasn't in his deviant nature to retreat in the face of adversity, and especially not before a Malfoy, even if the bloke was currently more beast. He roared, slapping his thick thighs with meaty palms, his muscular physique rippling as he prepared to charge the Veela.

Thorfinn blinked, startled, his palm rising to touch his ribs. The Veela rounded him, extending his gangly arms to swipe at the cause of his anger. Thin ribbons of blood dripped from each slash, and Rowle's hand came away streaked with his own blood.

The Death Eater charged forward, his face contorted into the epitome of rage. His lips were curled, dripping with spittle, his clenched fists were pink from smeared blood. His nudity was of no account when it came to fighting for his life. His wide feet slapped the tile, slipping in his own fluid.

Draco the Veela stretched his wings wide to accommodate the other man's girth. He braced his feet apart, preparing to receive the Death Eater. Thorfinn crashed into him, yowling in indescribable pain. His ribs snapped from the stone-like structure of the Veela body. His knees crumpled and he was once more on the floor.

Draco stared down at the man, preparing himself to allow the Aurors to take Rowle into custody, but he paused. He was suddenly overcome with his wife, his mate's fear, her anger, her heartbreak, all caused by the cowering Death Eater at his feet. He couldn't allow the man to live.

"Malfoy! Don't!" Harry shouted and attempted to bind his best mate's husband, the spell was child's play to deflect.

Draco Malfoy sprung forward, landing on Rowle's chest with an audible crack. The cowering man's screams were now silent, and Harry was conflicted. Ron was quite gleeful, positive Malfoy was going to prove everyone wrong and eat the bastard.

"Shut up, Harry! Go on Malfoy, eat him!" Ron avoided Harry's frown, concentrating on the one sided fight at his feet.

"You're not helping, Ron!"

"Don't want to help." Ron mumbled, his stomach rolling.

Draco cawed loudly, the sound echoing off the mint green walls. He tore Thorfinn's left arm from its socket, flinching as he was speckled with splashes of ruby red blood. He watched the fingers twitch before they stilled, and hurled the arm down the corridor.

Ron yelped as the severed arm struck his check, causing him gag. Personally, Harry thought it served him right, but he kept quiet. The last thing he wanted was to be decorated with body parts as well. Honestly, he was a bit torn. The Auror in him, wanted Draco the Veela to cease and desist, but the man within the Auror, wanted to sit back and watch the violence.

Harry knew it was exceedingly dangerous to interfere. It was a death wish he absolutely did not have. In the end, he decided it was in his best interest to keep the Healers, Mediwitches, and patients, far from the scene of the crime.

Draco fueled his own fury instead of attempting to quell the rage. It was the exact opposite of everything Apolline Delacour had ever taught him, and he didn't care. He could see, feel, and even smell, every moment of Hermione's fear, heartbreak, and pain. Thorfinn Rowle could die a thousand deaths and it still wouldn't be enough.

The Death Eater twitched with shallow breaths, the light in his eyes ebbing. He had wreaked havoc throughout his life, but in the end, he truly _had_ been bested by a Muggleborn witch. Thorfinn Rowle shuddered, hoping his end would come quickly.

Draco looked deeply into the man's eyes and granted mercy. His talons dug into Rowle's shoulders, puncturing the skin. Veela fangs descended and before Thorfinn would draw another breath, they were embedded in his throat. Rowle didn't feel his skin tear, nor was he aware of his throat being torn asunder, as his life ended much the way it began, with screams and blood.

"Oh my boy, what have you done?" Apolline Delacour looked upon her former student with hooded eyes.

"He threw an arm at me, that's what he's done!" Ron indignantly plucked a sliver of Death Eater skin from his midriff, with an audible gag.

Draco snorted, wiping his mouth of the last vestiges of Death Eater skin and fluid. He climbed off the dead man's chest, breathing deeply. The satisfaction he felt was immense, easily aiding him in transforming back into a simple wizard.

"What was necessary." He spat, completely unapologetic for his actions.

He transformed his tattered robes into something more acceptable and quickly Scourgified himself. Draco stared at Apolline through narrowed eyes, displeased with her arrival. He was angry with her, still feeling as though she deserted him.

"Why, Draco, do you believe," Apolline patted her fading blonde hair with manicured fingers and sighed, "it was necessary to end the man?" There was a calculating manner to her, which Draco always found tiring and this time was no exception.

"He never would have stopped. He would have continued to terrorise my wife to the best of his ability until the end of his days. He would have recruited from Azkaban, and we all know there are still bastards about simply aching for another madman to follow. She is my life, and now she carries my child. I would fucking end Merlin if he had half the thoughts that disgusting abomination had. I'm not sorry. I'm not apologising. I'd do it all again."

Ron looked to Harry, gesturing toward the remaining pieces of Thorfinn Rowle, but Harry only shrugged. Neither of them wanted to be involved in another row. Draco pretended he didn't see the duo slowly creeping down the corridor, remaining focused on Apolline.

"You focused on her, didn't you? You put her thoughts and feelings above your own and came to a conclusion you could live with. That is what I'm hearing is it not?" Apolline's twitching lips belied the cool timbre of her voice, until she finally smiled broadly.

"Yes, I absolutely did." Draco stepped around his kill without another thought, and offered his arm to his mentor.

"Well done." Apolline was exceedingly proud of Draco, as he had finally learned the final lesson. He had fine tuned his abilities to his mate, and acted accordingly. She couldn't have been more pleased.

Draco immediately detected Hermione's lack of shock when he and Apolline rounded the bend arm in arm. He sensed her relief, witnessing the tension ebb from her shoulders as she relaxed. His heart flooded with emotion when she smiled at him.

"He's dead then?" Hermione hurried to his side, nodding in polite deference to Apolline, before crashing into his chest.

Draco stared down at her, expecting her anger, but he felt nothing of the sort. He probed a touch more than he probably should have, but came up empty in that regard. He was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of her love, and acceptance.

"It isn't a problem, is it?" His teasing manner caused her to blush, which only fueled his desire for her.

"No, not for me, though the Minister may wish a word." Hermione surprised herself by her ease of acceptance.

She had a sneaking suspicion Thorfinn Rowle would be dead by the end of the day, and while she wasn't one to applaud death, this was a special circumstance. She was relieved, but also felt guilty for feeling relieved. It was quite the conundrum for Hermione Malfoy.

"Hmm, let's avoid him for eternity." Draco enveloped her in his arms, inhaling deeply and holding her tight. "Let's go home, love. We'll deal with the rest another time."

"Now that everything is all said and done, whatever are we going to do with ourselves?" Hermione murmured into his chest, listening to the sound of Apolline's retreating heels upon the marble. The French witch murmured a few words of farewell, but Draco was busy concentrating on his wife.

"Oh love, it isn't over, it's barely begun." Draco chuckled into her hair, squeezing her for a nanosecond. "We'll run your Foundation, employ discarded house elves. We'll have to buy a larger home, as I have every intention of filling it with children. I suppose we'll be forced to entertain on occasion, and I imagine eventually, we'll ask Raven if we can visit with Nova. Of course, you'll spend most of your time in the library, researching Veela heritage, but I'll manage to entice you away, with promises of sensual kisses and bubble baths."

"A bath sounds absolutely lovely." Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, only to be squeezed from unexpected Side-Along-Apparition. "Malfoy, the Minister is going to have our heads."

"He can try, but judging on the mess I've left of Rowle, I do think he'll think twice before reprimanding me." Draco smirked, causing Hermione to be reminded of the cantankerous child he once was.

"I've so much to do, but I don't wish to do any of it. I should send Ginny an owl, and perhaps some sort of fruit basket to Luna, not to mention the wedding extravaganza your mother is planning and…"

"Hermione, that's enough. We don't have to do everything today. We don't have to know what your friends are doing every moment of their lives. I don't have to pretend to care. It's alright to rest. Merlin knows we deserve it. I rather enjoy the idea of drawing a bath. Afterwards, I plan on shagging you senseless. It's a favourite pastime of mine, you realise?"

Hermione nodded slowly, smiling as she watched him cross the hardwood floors toward the washroom. She listened to the sound of water flowing from the taps, and tiredly removed her cloak. She twisted her golden brown curls into a messy bun on the top of her head and secured it with a quill she found on her bureau.

Draco padded quietly into their bedroom, watching her slow movements, enjoying her inner peace. He tuned his sensitivities to the constant flutter beneath her ribs, pleased to know their son slumbered so peacefully. It was a good life, a wonderful life, and Draco had every intention of enjoying every moment. The details could wait, they would always be there.

"Draco." Hermione chewed the corner of her lip, and approached him with hesitant steps.

"I love the way my name sounds on your lips." He murmured, reaching for her.

"I love you." Hermione's confession was stilted, nervous even, but he smiled nonetheless.

"I could listen to you say that all day, forever."

Hermione repeated the words, grasping his hand. She called them over her shoulder while she led him to the washroom. She crinkled her nose, and spoke them over and over, as she shed her clothes, and one last time as she climbed into the steamy bathwater.

Draco's grey eyes lit up as she'd never seen them before. He was pleased, and lightly purred as he shed his own clothing. His eyes dropped to the slightly noticeable round of her abdomen, and he bent to place his lips below her navel.

He knew they would be alright. He could feel it in his bones. They would conquer the technicalities later. The wedding, his mother, her friends, his friends, could all wait. They weren't going anywhere.

Draco closed the Floo and Confunded all the waiting owls. For a little while, he wished nothing more than to enjoy the soothing serenity of happiness.

They deserved that much.


	25. Of Epilogues

**AN: I couldn't resist writing a series of snippets, which I'll just call the epilogue. It might be rough as far as errors go, but no one's perfect. I tried.**

**As always...enjoy. *kisses***

* * *

Of Epilogues

* * *

The screeching within the walls of the yellow cottage was akin to nothing he'd ever heard before, and it set his teeth on edge. He scowled, his upper lip twitching only due to his current company. He'd informed Hermione, numerous times, he did not wish to be in the same room with Potter and Weasel, but she'd waved her hand and ignored him.

Draco always did hate when Hermione ignored him. It had become something of a pastime and there really was nothing he could do about it. Ordinarily, he'd simply whisk her to their home and shag her until she couldn't walk, but such options were off the table when she was so close to birthing their son.

"I don't envy you mate. If Ginny can put up such a fuss, imagine what Pansy is going to sound like when she labours." Harry Potter snickered into his pint of bitters, enjoying the abject horror on Ron's face.

"I've already told you, Harry." Ron hissed quietly, as he quickly glanced over his shoulder to ensure his wife was not sneaking up on him. "I'm not ready to be a father."

"Hmmm, too late for that Weasley." Draco enjoyed having the upper hand. His Veela senses had not waned a single iota, and his knowledge of impending children was his favourite needling power.

"You're lying again. You can't fool me more than once and…"

"Oh come now, you know that's not true at all. Potter, tell him how easy it is." Draco raised his glass of firewhiskey, and wiggled his pale eyebrows.

"He's not wrong, Ron. Though, I did overhear Pansy and Luna…"

"I don't want to speak to either of you. I'm going to find my wife. We're not friends anymore." Ron Weasley angrily stomped from the McLaggen's sitting room, slamming doors along the way.

"Pity." Draco sniffed, not feeling it was a pity at all. In fact, he was quite relieved to be free of the man. "Did you hear of Astoria? Poor girl."

Draco lounged casually on a flower print armchair. While the screeching had lessened some, he was still capable of hearing the growled curses and threats. He hoped Hermione was calmer when it was her time.

"Yeah, I know. She'll probably spend the rest of her days on the Janus Thickey Ward. I wish I could have prosecuted her parents, that would have been something." Harry sighed and scratched his head, his eyes drawn to his waddling wife as she carefully balanced tea service in the kitchen.

"I had a devil of a time with Hermione. She was absolutely adamant we adopt the child in question. Could you imagine, Potter? I might be fond of little Nova, but Rowle's child under my roof? I'd rather Avada myself." Draco growled, his fingertips elongating as he pricked the fabric with his talons.

"Calm down, Malfoy. Eventually, Hermione saw reason. You've got to learn to let her think these things out on her own. You can't force her into decisions otherwise, she'll just resent you. You'd think you'd know that by now." Harry eyed the obsidian eyes and decided it was in his best interest to put a bit of space between them. "Besides, I spoke with Raven and Anderson. It took a bit, but they'll take the child when it's time. I hope it's a girl."

"It is."

"You ruin all the surprises, Malfoy." Harry wrenched his round spectacles off his face and angrily wiped them on his blue cotton shirt.

"I told you McLaggen would go late. I told you Lovegood, oh forgive me, Mrs. Potter would go early, that's not ruining a surprise, Potter. Ruining a surprise would be to tell you of the Quidditch tickets Hermione purchased for your birthday." Draco's grey eyes were lit with amusement as the information was finally absorbed by the distracted, dark haired wizard.

"I don't like you, Malfoy." Harry crossed his arms angrily, though in reality, he was quite pleased.

"As much as things change, they remain the same. Quidditch on Sunday?" Draco downed his drink, as the squall of a new child entering the world filled the cottage.

"Yeah, yeah."

* * *

"I'm going to be sick." Lucius Malfoy covered his lips in a most dramatic fashion, yet refused to vacate his wife's sitting room. "Why must history repeat itself in my home? Are Potters so poor they must practice their sexual deviance wherever they lay their heads?"

Luna Lovegood Potter smiled serenely, completely disregarding her husband's bright red face, hiding within her dirty blonde strands. She waved over her shoulder, slowly rocking her hips. Luna wasn't the sort of witch to become rattled by anything, not even the glower of Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius, there's nothing wrong with deliciously long sessions of Tantric sex. If you had bothered to read the book I bought you last Yule, you would know this. Perhaps, I should broach the subject with Cissa. I'm sure it is something she would enjoy."

"Potter, leave no trace of your lascivious behaviours, and I'll not mention your activities to my volatile, Veela wife." Lucius sneered, backing slowly out of the sitting room, closing the doors tightly.

"They're doing it again, aren't they, Father?" Draco snuck up on his father, snorting when the older wizard leapt into the air with fright.

"Yes. Your wife's friends are disgusting. Never mention this to your mother, otherwise I'll never breathe another breath of fresh air. I simply can't keep up with the woman." Lucius shuddered and scurried away as quickly as his feet would take him.

"That…was completely unnecessary." Draco faux gagged, pausing to scoop the running platinum blond toddler into his arms. "You know better than to run in the Manor."

"James be mean. Hugo be dupit." Scorpius Malfoy had no issue expressing his three-year-old fury. He crossed his arms angrily as his white blond hair fell into his eyes.

"Hugo is not stupid." Draco spoke with difficulty. It came naturally to mock Weasley and his choice of his name for his son. "He is quite a bit younger than the rest of you. He's a baby."

"He smell yucky."

"Well, then you tell his mother he crapped his pants, alright? Be nice or I shan't take you out on the broom later." Draco ruffled his son's hair, and set him on his feet with a sigh.

"Really Draco? Crapped his pants? You couldn't have turned a nicer phrase to our son?" Hermione shook her head with faux disappointment, and hugged her husband.

She tried not to laugh, but in the end, it was impossible. She giggled against his chest, listening to the sounds of children laughing, arguing, and running through the Manor. She was filled with excitement, and knew Draco could sense it.

As hard as she had tried over the past few years, it was absolutely impossible to conceal anything from her Veela husband. It used to drive her quite mad, but Hermione had grown used to it. There were moments however, when she begged him to play along, and he did so seamlessly.

"It's better than what I wanted to say. Potter and Lovegood are shagging in my mother's sitting room."

"Thank…you…for that." Hermione rolled her eyes, pretending she didn't notice his hand slipping into her blouse to toy with her breast. "We are not following in their footsteps."

"Of course not, we have a perfectly acceptable wing, with a bed. Ara is napping, Scorpius is terrorizing Potters and Weasleys, we've time." Draco licked her neck and Hermione knew she would not refuse him. It was inevitable.

Draco had unbuttoned her blouse in the shadows of the corridor, nudging her along with urgency. He paused, and pressed her against the blue flowered wallpaper in order to pay homage to her heavy breasts. Hermione gasped when his teeth latched onto her throbbing peak, her head hitting the wall.

"Oh for the love of…d'ya really hafta do that…here? I don't need to see this. I don't want to see this." Harry stumbled from the sitting room with his slacks barely drawn over his hips, and his hair askew.

"Go away, Potter or I'll tell my mother about her sitting room." Draco mumbled around Hermione's breasts, inching her skirt up her thighs.

"Uhm yeah alright. Don't like you! Quidditch on Sunday! Bye!" Harry shouted over his shoulder as he practically ran toward the Floo, dragging a half-dressed Luna behind him.

* * *

Ronald Weasley mopped the sweat from his brow, nervously tending his wife. Pansy held his hand with such strength, he was certain she had crushed a few bones. When he attempted to suggest she might have done so, Pansy had shouted herself purple, declaring he didn't need his bloody hand.

Ron swore they would never have another child. It wasn't because he didn't love children, he did. It wasn't because he didn't love his wife, he did, desperately in fact. However, the idea of having to listen to her screech, and refuse Pain Potions as their children made their way into the world would have cured Merlin of further procreation.

"There she is…" The Healer breathed with relief. The poor witch was nearly deaf, and vowed to Silence Pansy Weasley if she was ever forced to attend another birth.

Pansy sniffled, stretching her arms out to receive her daughter. She inspected the newborn's fingers, and toes with tears of happiness in her eyes. She kissed the girl's head, surprised to see wisps of red hair.

"She's a ginger…" Pansy whispered.

"Let's call her Rose." Ron carefully placed his arm around his wife's shoulders, flexing his fingers, while staring down at the newest edition to their family.

Pansy nodded as the angry conversations grew to a crescendo in their great room.

"You owe me ten galleons, Potter." Draco bounced his knee, entertaining young Ara while Scorpius chased Wilhelmina, Paige, and Hugo.

"James! Stop tripping up Hugo! Willa, don't make faces at me! Where the hell is Ginny? Why is Paige here?" Harry Potter was frazzled as he was the only one chasing the children.

"Wilhelmina is as bad a name as Albus Severus. At least Luna managed to talk you out of it. I don't know why Ginny agreed to McLaggen's request. Absolutely hideous. Megan and Theo have gone to St. Mungo's, something about seeing a Healer, hence why Paige is here. Pansy agreed to watch the girl, but that went tit's up when little Rose decided to make an appearance, which brings us back to you owing me ten galleons." Draco flicked his wand with a touch of superiority, and the children stilled.

"That's not remotely fair. You knew they were having a girl." Harry pouted unpleasantly. No matter how many years had passed, he still detested losing the copious number of bets, to Malfoy.

"We didn't bet on the sex of the child, Potter. We bet on the name." Draco paced before the still children, blinking slowly. He wished them to receive the full effect of his pitch black eyes.

The small group of rowdy children quivered. They swallowed as one and ever so slowly edged passed the towering wizard with the scary eyes. They pushed open the backdoor and sat in the grasses, keeping a wary eye on each other.

"Her name is Rose!" Ron ran into the great room with a wide smile, and a pink bundle in his arms.

"I don't like you, Malfoy."

"Aw Potter, why must you wound me so?" Draco dramatically covered his heart, chuckling in victory.

"You can play Quidditch by yourself, you bastard."

* * *

Hermione Malfoy fretted over her eldest son until even her husband was rolling his eyes in exasperation. She'd gone over the contents of his trunk so many times, Draco was certain every first year knew what Scorpius Malfoy was lugging to Hogwarts. Instead of forcing his wife to face reality, he stepped away, silently wishing his first-born son luck.

Upon the arrival of Raven and Anderson Foster, Scorpius managed to free himself from his mother, hastily wiping his cheek. He scowled, much like his father once had, as he eyed the numerous excited children boarding The Hogwarts Express. His grey eyes were curiously drawn to a petite blonde witch, exuberantly hugging his mother, and he felt uncomfortable. Scorpius looked to his father, but only rolled his eyes as he saw Harry Potter approach.

"Oh, it's you, Potter." Draco Malfoy sneered at the smaller, scar-headed wizard with apathy more than disdain.

"I still don't like you, Malfoy." Harry Potter waved to Hermione, ignoring the pale blond wizard at his side.

"Good to know some things remain the same, even after all these years." Draco sniffed, thrusting his aristocratic nose into the air, and Harry laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. Quidditch on Sunday?"

"As always."

Scorpius waited until his honorary Uncle moved along in the bustling crowd before approaching his father. He already knew asking his mother was out of the question. She had often shied away from discussing his Veela heritage, directing to ridiculously large tomes of antiquated information.

"Dad?" Scorpius kept a careful eye on his younger sister, instantly disliking her closeness with James Albus Potter.

"Have you seen where Lynx and Lyra have run off too? I swear they were just here. You're mother is going to murder me." Draco distractedly searched for crowd for his youngest children, sighing in relief as he spied them near Ginny and Cormac McLaggen.

"Dad…" Scorpius gripped his father's hand, and instantly he had his father's attention.

Draco could feel the magic. He could feel the blood coursing through his son's veins. He could hear the rapid thud of his son's heart, and knew the path Scorpius Malfoy would walk down.

"Bollocks. Your mother isn't going to like this you realise. She clung to the idea it had skipped over you because of Louis Weasley. He hasn't shown any signs at all, but I warned her." Draco drew his son beside a pillar, just beyond the scope of his wife's vision.

"Who is she?" Scorpius pointed to the petite blonde witch clinging to a lovely brunette he assumed to be her mother.

"Ah yes, well, interestingly enough, that little witch was almost your sister." Draco smirked while Scorpius balked at the idea, his breaths short and somewhat raspy. "Her name is Nova…"

"That's the Nova mum was always going on about? I didn't know…I mean she…I suppose I should have visited when mum offered." Scorpius tilted his head, studying her features carefully from afar.

"Listen son. You can't just rush over there. You're not the proper age for that, not quite yet. I'm going to owl an old friend. Her name is Apolline Delacour, and she was quite instrumental in aiding me win over your mum. Let me give you a small bit of advice." It was obvious Scorpius was enamoured with the girl, and barely listening to his father with half an ear, but Draco pressed on, "Befriend her. It will make your life so much easier. Don't make the same mistakes I made when I was a child."

"I want _her_."

Hermione Malfoy closed her eyes, hoping she had heard incorrectly, but she hadn't. She observed her husband sigh and suggest he consider his options, considering he was only eleven, but Scorpius was just as stubborn as his parents. She sighed, knowing such things were completely out of her hands.

"Scorpius, Willa was looking for you. Why don't you bring the twins over after you've said your goodbyes. I'd like a word with your father." Hermione brushed the silky strands of blond hair off her son's forehead, and resisted the urge to kiss him in public.

"Hermione…" Draco was still addicted to her, even after all these years.

He unconsciously sniffed her hair, wrapping his arms around her tight. It had been a number of years since he had unintentionally Demonstrated, and for that she was thankful. She could feel his anxiety as easily as she could feel her own.

"I know. I should have listened to you. I thought he had a chance to escape…"

"Do you regret this?" Draco's hurt was almost palpable, which only caused her to ache.

"No, of course not. I couldn't, even if I wanted too. I love you. We have a good life, Draco. We've four wonderful children, and our lives are filled with family, friends, and their children. It's more than I ever thought I'd have, and I have it with you." Hermione breathed in the woodsy scent of her husband's crisp shirt with a strangled sigh. "I suppose I wished Scorpius to escape the painful bits."

Draco nodded, watching Ara giggle with James. Lynx and Lyra, his twins, so different, yet so very much the same, were poking Scorpius, as he ignored them. Draco's eyes fluttered over the crowd, picking out their friends.

He spied Sirius and Lily Potter dancing circles around their mother, Luna. He snorted upon seeing Ginny and Cormac arguing while their children, Wilhelmina and Tiberius rolled their eyes. Theo and Megan were teary eyed as they set Paige on the train, keeping a firm hand on their son, Newt.

"Aye, I wished for that as well. Think of it this way, love, Nova will be a Malfoy after all."

* * *

Lyra Malfoy snatched the parchment from her brother's fingers, running through the house with excitement. Her golden curls bounced as she thumped up the staircase, her grey eyes sparkling with mischief. Lynx shouted, instantly chasing her, his deep brown eyes filled with irritation.

"Mummy! Uncle Blaise sent an owl!"

"Lyra, why are you shouting? Your sister kept me up most of the night. I'm entirely too old for this. Your Uncle Blaise sends many an owl, why is this one different?" Hermione groaned from the confines of her four-poster bed, cursing Draco, life, and her children all in one breath.

"He married an American! And!" Lyra bounced on her toes while scrunching her nose, the perfect balance of both her parents, "He's coming home! Oh yeah, Ara got Sorted. Slytherin." Lyra dropped the parchment onto her parent's bed and scooped up her baby sister.

"Ugh, you could have led with that, Lyra. You best take Delphi out of here before I lose my mind. I'm too tired to think. Go find your father, I'm sure he'll be bloody thrilled."

Lynx sauntered into his parent's bedroom, looking as sullen as ever, and sighed dramatically. Hermione was fairly certain her youngest son would follow in the footsteps of his older siblings, but she refused to bet on it. He favoured Draco more than his sister, but his eyes were all her.

"Dad already knows. He's arguing with Uncle Harry in the garden."

"Why do they do that? It's so stupid. They claim they hate each other, but then every Sunday they're in the garden or at the Burrow playing Quidditch. Honestly, I don't understand them a bit." Lyra snuggled her baby sister, adoring her honey blonde hair and large brown eyes.

"They don't even use their proper names. Oh mum, Scorpius says he's coming home come Yule. Apparently, Apolline has deemed him fit, or something. I don't know, I wasn't listening." Lynx shrugged and headed off to his bedchamber before his mother set him to task. He planned on enjoying his last year of freedom before he was off to Hogwarts.

"Lyra, why don't you take your sister and go ask your father these delightful questions. I can't keep my eyes open any longer. Love you." Hermione blinked and within seconds, her lips parted and her breaths deepened.

"You've really got to learn how to sleep." Lyra bounced the baby, cradling her carefully as she made her way down the staircase.

It was an overcast day, with a light chill in the air, but it was beautiful just the same. She laughed, spying another owl overhead, and knew her mother wouldn't get her much needed rest. She wanted over to her father, shaking her head.

"Give me my galleons, Potter!"

"No! I won't! You cheated!" Harry resorted to physical violence, and gave Draco Malfoy quite a shove.

"You're just angry I won yet again. I told you Sirius was bound for Slytherin. With a name like Sirius Fred, how could he not? Poor boy never had a chance." Draco stumbled, but he didn't fall, his reflexes as spry as his youth.

"Dad? Why do you and Uncle Harry row so often?" Lyra lounged on a lawn chair, laying her sister on her chest, ever so gently.

"We're not…having a row. We simply…disagree. Where is your mother?" Draco frowned, watching Delphi blink her long blonde lashes.

"She's exhausted and you'd know that if you weren't out here, arguing like a child." Lyra arched an eyebrow at her father, and he felt properly schooled.

"She sounds just like Hermione." Harry Potter faux shuddered, chuckling lightly. "Lyra, your father and I are…friends who detest each other. We make wagers, we argue, we have a drink, and we play Quidditch. It's what men do."

"Men are stupid." Lyra declared. Without another word, she rose from the chaise and flounced into the house.

Draco fervently hoped his daughter always thought men were stupid, and stayed far away from them upon entering Hogwarts. Ara had already expressed a budding interest in James Potter, and Draco swore he'd send her to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic before his daughter became a fucking Potter.

"We're not friends. I don't even like you." Draco huffed angrily, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"We are too friends, Malfoy." Harry brushed the remnants of dirt from his Muggle jeans, shaking his head at the stubbornness of his best friend's husband.

"Would you care to make a wager, Potter?"

"No. I wouldn't. You bloody cheat. Never mind. I take it back, we're not friends. I don't even like you. I'm not playing with you anymore." Harry turned on his heel, and stomped through the grasses.

"Liar. Quidditch on Sunday!" Draco called after the angry wizard, just before stepping into his house. He paused, waiting for Harry to callback, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Always!"


End file.
